Circle of Love (11 page)

"We're miles from town," she said 'There's no telegraph out here."

102

"But there are poles and wires right next to the track," Eddie said, "and next to the baggage car, in the mail car, there's telegraph equipment. I found it there when I went off on my own, lookin* over the whole train." As color came back into his face, his smile widened into a grin. "Ill go back there right now and tell the operator who the robbers are and what they're plannin' for Harwood. He can hook up his equipment to the telegraph line and wire ahead to the police—"

The conductor broke iu. "Out here the law officials are the sheriff and his deputies."

Eddie tossed his head impatiently. "Whatever they're called, they'll be waitin' for those Connally brothers when they ride in."

Oh, Sethy what is going to happen to you? Frances wondered. Seth had made the wrong choice, turning his anger into revenge, but for a little while he had been a friend. He had had the potential to do good. If only he would realize he could change his ways for the better. Mike had. Seth could, too.

Johnny's face came to mind, and Frances's unhap-piness grew. Ofe, Johnny, my dearest love, she thought with determination, it's too late for me to help Seth, but it's not too late to save you.

Frances let Eddie go with the conductor to get the telegraph equipment Before he left, she patted his shoulder. "I'm glad you're here, Eddie."

She attempted to calm the children, whose fear had blossomed into excitement as they discussed what had happened. "Seth Connally wasn't a preacher," she told them. "He pretended to be so the police wouldn't find and arrest him."

"What's going to happen to him, Miss Kelly?" Aggie asked.

*TheyTl shoot him," Jessie said matter-of-factly.

Frances shuddered. "Oh, no, Jessie. If Mr. Con-nally's caught hell be arrested, along with his brothers. They'll be tried before a judge and jury. If they're found guilty, they'll probably be locked up in jail where they can't rob anyone else."

Frances tried not to think about Seth. If he was imprisoned again, his bitterness and hatred and desire for revenge were bound to grow. She would have helped him if she could have, but there was nothing she could do for him now.

Sam asked, "What if the sheriff doesn't catch the Connally brothers? Then what?"

"I don't know," Frances said, but she thought about Seth's words with dread. "FU come and find you," he had told her. He could do that easily. He knew where she lived. A shiver ran up her backbone.

The train gave a sudden jolt, throwing people into their seats. Frances grabbed the back of one seat, managing to keep her balance. **Sit down, children," she said. "Well soon be in Harwood."

During the remainder of the ride Frances thought about the calm and friendly support of Andrew MacNair and Katherine Banks as they helped the Kel-lys and the other children over their fears. / must be like themy she thought The children need me.

A muffled whimper came from across the aisle. At least I can try, she told herself. She hurried to pick up four-year-old Philip and held him close. As she hummed a lullaby, he stopped sniffling and relaxed against her. What a dear little boy you are, Frances thought Someone will be Iv^cky to get you.

As the train began to slow on its approach into Harwood, Frances stood and faced the children. Some looked back at her with fear in their eyes. A

few faces were pale and pinched with worry. George Babcock tried to hold tightly to Earl and Nelly, who clung to him in desperation. Adam Stowe, tears rolling unchecked down his imhappy face, grasped his brother Harry in a stranglehold. Only Eddie, who had returned from helping the conductor, Sam, and Marcus kept up a smiling, poking, shoving, teasing manner, but as Frances looked into their eyes, she saw three scared boys hiding behind their brave masks.

Frances smiled. "You're going to discover many fine people who want very much to meet you," she said. "Some of you will find new families among them."

Jessie spoke barely above a whisper. "What happens if we don't?"

"Then you'll still have me," Frances answered. "I'll be right there with you. I won't leave you until you all find homes in which you'll be happy."

"You promise? You'll stay with us?" Lucy Griggs asked.

"I promise," Frances said. "Part of my job is to make sure that you all have good homes."

"How many stops are there?" Mary Beth asked.

"Three," Frances told her.

"And then what?" Marcus asked. "At the Society they said you brought a lad back because no one wanted him."

"That's not true," Frances said. "I brought Stefan back to New York City because his aimt and uncle came to the United States and asked for him soon after his orphan train left for Kansas."

"He had family," Daisy said in wonder. "A real family."

"I have a mother," Frances told Daisy. "I love her

very much, and she loves me. But I also have a foster mother and father, who took me in when I was thirteen and raised me as though I were a child of their own. A family doesn't have to be a mother and father and a child to whom they've given birth."

*Then what i& a faniily?" Daisy asked.

Frances thought a moment before she answered. "A family is a circle of love," she said.

"Love?" Lucy echoed.

Frances smiled. 'That's right Love given and love returned."

Lucy smiled and hugged her doll. "Did you hear that, Baby? Love is a circle," she said.

As the train came to a stop, Frances could see a swarm of people outside, most of them staring at the train as though they were trying to see through the windows. A tall, broad-shouldered man strode toward the train, heading for their car.

The conductor opened the door and ran down the steps with his stool, but the tall man stopped him. Bounding up the steps, he entered the car, swept off his wide-brimmed hat, and spoke to Frances.

"Ma'am," he said, "I'm Sheriff Malloy. 1 take it you are Miss Frances Kelly and you have a boy here in your care named Eddie Marsh?"

"Yes," Frances answered. As Eddie stood trembling, clutching the back of the seat ahead of him for support, Frances automatically stood protectively between him and the sheriff.

"Eddie hasn't done anything he shouldn't," Frances said firmly. "I can vouch for him."

The sheriff smiled. "I didn't mean to rile you. I shoulda said right off that I came to thank Eddie for the information he gave the telegraph operator. That was smart of you, Eddie. We got our robbers—^three

of them, that is—afore they hit the bank, and we got the Gladneys' money and jewelry back."

Solemnly he shook Eddie's hand.

"Hip, hip, hooray for Eddie!" Sam shouted, but only a few of the children joined him. Most of them stared at the sheriff or at the people on the train platform who excitedly peered through the windows at them.

Frances cheered for Eddie, but as soon as she had the chance she asked the sheriff, "Which of the Con-nally brothers got away?"

"The one who rode the train," the sheriff said. He quickly added, "But don't worry. We've got men out lookin' for him. We'll soon round him up."

"Poor Seth," Frances murmured to herself. She knew Seth was deeply troubled. Would he ever get the chance to redeem himself?

"Are you all right, ma'am?" Sheriff Malloy asked. "You look kinda pale. It's hot here, even for July. Is the heat botherin' you?"

Frances took a deep breath, willing Seth out of her mind. "I'm all right," she said. "But I would like to ask a favor of you. Will you escort us, please, as we march to the Methodist church?"

"I'll be happy to, ma'am," the sheriff said.

Frances turned to the children. "Pick up your luggage, boys and girls. We'll leave this train and walk two blocks to the place where we'll meet the people who have come to see you. Come on, now. Remember . . . you're wonderful children, and I'm very, very proud of you. The families who'll get you will be lucky, so hold your heads high and smile."

As Frances climbed down the steps of the car she felt a strong pull at one side of her skirt. Caroline pressed so closely that Frances nearly stumbled.

Reaching down tx) stroke Caroline's hair, Frances said, "You're safe with me, love. Don't be afraid."

Caroline raised her head and surveyed the platform. "I looked and looked, but I don't see him," she whispered

Frances knew that Caroline meant her father. "Take my hand,^' she said, and pulled Caroline to a position at her side. "We're going to meet the people who have come to find children to love."

The sheriff easily cleared a path through the bystanders on the platform, but two women spoke loudly, and Frances could hear their remarks.

"Look at them little waifs."

"I heard that some of them was left on doorsteps. Never had a proper father."

"And some are picked up right off the streets of New York City!"

"Um-hum. And passed off as being proper as you and me, but we both know that living on the streets the way they did, they've got to be little criminals."

"Maybe not all of them. Look at that little girl. Don't she look sweet and pretty?"

'That little boy, too. Cute as a bug. But that big girt, now. You can't say she'd take a beauty prize."

A gentleman in a high collar asked the man next to him, "Which one of the children was the boy who saved the bank?"

"It's gotta be that one who's smiling and waving at us. He's not shy at taking his bows. He heard you ask about him, I reckon."

"Did the bank manager give the boy a reward?"

"Reward? Why should the boy get a reward? He's only a child."

There was a great deal Frances would have liked to say to these busybodies, but she held her tongue

and marched briskly past them down a dusty street to the Methodist church.

She led the children past the seventy or eighty people who crowded the room, to a raised platform on which three rows of stools had been arranged. A stout middle-aged woman stepped up next to Frances and pointed to three people seated in chairs at the side of the room. "I'm Mrs. Judson, and that's my committee," she said. "We know most of the people aroimd these parts, which is why the Society asked us to serve. If you have any questions about anyone who wants to take in a child, you just ask us."

"Thank you," Frances said.

She seated the smaller children in front, the larger in back. When the children were ready, the sheriff raised his voice, so that it boomed against the back waU. "Quiet down," he bellowed. "Listen to what Miss Kelly has to say."

Frances looked at the many faces, and for a moment she was thirteen again, studying the crowd, looking for expressions of kindness and laugh lines and smiles, hoping that she and her brothers and sisters would find happy homes. Her heart beat faster, and she had to will herself to calm down.

She cleared her throat and began, as she'd been told to do, by explaining a little about the Children's Aid Society and what it hoped to accomplish with the placing-out program. She went over the rules about treating each child like one of the family and making sure he or she was schooled and taken to church through the age of fourteen—just in case the onlookers hadn't paid attention to the advertisements that had been sent out.

Then she introduced each child in turn, giving only names and ages.

Finally she invited the people to visit the stage and become acquainted with the children. "I hope there will be many of you here who will come to me and arrange to take a child," she said.

A buzz like that from a busy beehive filled the room as husbands and wives looked over the children and discussed them with each other. A young woman, her hat askew, ran to the stage and held out her arms to Lizzie.

"Mama?" Lizzie asked, and went right into the woman's arms.

"Oh, you precious child! You have to be ours!" the woman said as ^e hugged Lizzie.

"If you*d like to make arrangements to take her—" Frances began, but the woman didn't let her finish the sentence.

"We would! Oh, we would! Look at those beautiful eyes. She's so much like our own little girl would have been." She lowered her voice and said, "We lost our baby last year." The woman refused to let go of Lizzie for even a moment, even to let her husband hold her.

Another woman stepped up behind her. "Fm Mrs. Howard Smith," she said. "My husband and I also came to get a little girl. The two-year-old may be spoken for, but what about that pretty child you called Nelly? She's a darling. 1 tried to get her to come to me, but her brother won't let go of her."

"His name is George," Frances said. "And Nelly's other brother is Earl. They're hoping that someone will want to adopt the three of them together."

The woman gasped. 'Three? It's not likely anyone could afford to take three children."

'They don't want to be separated," Frances said.

"It's up to you to make the decision, isn't it, and

not them?" the woman asked. "My husband and I raised five boys. Now we'd love to have a little girl. We'd be good to her and school her, and take her to church on Sundays, just like you said."

"Let me have a minute to talk to the children," Frances said, but before she walked over to George, she stopped to speak to the committee members, who sat in chairs at the side of the room.

"What do you know about Mr. and Mrs. Howard Smith?" she asked.

A bald man pursed his lips and nodded. "Good people," he said. "Raised a passel of boys, none of whom went bad. One son read the law and set up his practice down in St. Louis. Another's working at the store with Howard."

"They want Nelly Babcock," Frances explained. "If they take Nelly, it will separate her from her two brothers. They all hoped to stay together."

One of the committee members rolled her eyes. "Wouldn't children ask for the moon, if they thought they could get it!"

Mrs. Judson smiled sympathetically at Frances. "We went through this last year. It's a hard job to find homes for large groups of children. I'm always saddened when we have to put some of them on the next train," She glanced at Mrs. Smith, who stood where Frances had left her. "I've known Rose Smith for years. She's a good woman, and she's always wanted a Uttle girl."

Frances sighed and said, "Thank you. I'll take your advice." With an aching heart she explained to George and Earl, "I can't take the chance on finding people who'd be able to adopt three children. I was told that the Smiths would be very good to Nelly and give her a happy home."

Earl's face was drained of color. "Will we be able to visit Nelly? Can we see her often?"

"I don't know," Frances said. Tears were streaming down George's cheeks. Nelly patted Greorge's face and looked puzzled.

"Why you crying?" Nelly asked.

George's defenses broke down completely, and he began to sob.

Frances wrapped her arms around all three children. She knew how much sorrow they were feeling. But she also knew that this could be Nelly's only chance to find a loving family. "I'll give you the Smiths' address so that you can write to Nelly," she told the boys.

Giving them time to say goodbye to their little sister and steeling herself to their heartbroken tears, Frances reluctantly took Nelly from George and carried her to Mrs. Smith.