Echoes of Mercy: A Novel (49 page)

“Ollie, can we talk?”

Her serious tone and somber expression raised a prickle of trepidation, but he nodded and guided her to the bench where Lank was curled in a ball, snoring. She sat and lifted the boy’s head onto her lap, opening a few inches of space for Oliver. He wriggled in between her and the armrest. The fit was tight, but he didn’t mind. He rested his arm across the back of the bench, enjoying the feel of her soft form pressed against his side.

She lifted her face to him, and tears twinkled in the corners of her eyes. “I’m so grateful you’re all right. When Gordon Hightower threatened to harm you and your father, I feared—”

Oliver jolted. “Wait. What?”

Her eyes widened. “Weren’t you there when the police arrested him?”

“Wasn’t I where?” Oliver shook his head in confusion. “Carrie, you aren’t making sense. I was on the train to Wichita when Lank jumped on the tracks and forced the engineer to stop. I left the train to help Lesley. Then we flagged down another train and rode back to Sinclair. I never made it to Wichita, and I never saw Hightower. When did you see him?”

Carrie’s mouth dropped open, and she raised a trembling hand to cover her lips. Sobs—soft yet harsh—shook her shoulders. Oliver dropped his arm around her and let the weeping run its course. Then in broken words she told him about Hightower tying her up inside the factory and threatening to harm her, him, and his father to prevent them from exposing his thievery.

Oliver listened in amazement, his heart beating in fear. His legs felt weak, but he started to rise. “I have to warn Father.”

“Ollie, it isn’t necessary.” Carrie smiled. “Noble called the police in Wichita. They sent two officers to your home, who took Hightower into custody when they found him in the yard. He hadn’t hurt your father. All is well.”

Oliver collapsed against the bench, so relieved he felt weightless.

Lank stirred, and Carrie stroked his tangled hair until he drifted off again. She gazed down at his peaceful face, and a smile played at the corners of her lips. “Ollie, do you realize Lank may have saved your life?”

Oliver pinched his brows. “How?”

“By stopping the train, he kept you from reaching Wichita, where Hightower
planned to ambush you and your father. If you had made it and had convinced your father of Hightower’s wrongdoings, both of you might be.” She stopped, as if unable to form the words.

Oliver’s skin went cold. “I knew Hightower was a bully, but I hadn’t suspected the extent to which he’d go.” He searched her sweet face, noticing for the first time a purplish mark on her forehead, nearly hidden by the curling mass of her bangs. Anger rolled through him. He brushed the bruise with his fingertips. “Did Hightower do that to you?”

“I bumped my head on the floor when I knocked over the cot, trying to alert Noble to my presence. Oh …” A sheepish look crept across her face. “Noble broke a window to get in. We’ll replace the glass.”

“I’ll take care of the damage myself.” He leaned forward and placed a kiss on the purple mark. “A window is a small price to pay for your rescue.”

A pleasant flutter winged through her chest at his tender gesture. She quickly shifted her attention back to Lank. “I can hardly believe Lank is the one who stopped the train. I wouldn’t have thought him capable of being so bold.”

Oliver smiled down at the exhausted boy and chuckled softly. “Apparently Lank has discovered many abilities in the past few days. According to Letta, he single-handedly kept them stocked with fish, built fires, and even snared a prairie chicken. Of course, the children couldn’t find the courage to kill the poor bird, so they just let it go, but even so … he caught it.”

Carrie lifted her startled gaze to him. “Lank did all that?”

Oliver nodded, recalling the pride glowing on the boy’s face as he’d shared their adventures. “Apparently our Lank here has been a keen observer and learned a great deal by watching others. And now that he’s found the courage to speak, hopefully people will begin to recognize just how intelligent he really is.” Oliver put his hand on Lank’s hair. “He’s a special boy. And he deserves a bright future.”

Eyes wide, mouth open slightly in astonishment, Carrie glanced quickly at Lank and back at Oliver. “Lank … is speaking?”

Oliver couldn’t stop a laugh. “You should have heard him convincing me to help Lesley. And then on the train, coming here, he never stopped talking. Oh, yes, he is speaking.”

“But … but his stammer …?”

“He still stammers. Chances are, he always will. But he doesn’t seem to be bothered by it as much now. Maybe those days alone on the prairie, with his brother and sister depending on him, helped him set aside his worry about being called a dummy. He knows he isn’t one, so”—Oliver shrugged again—“he’s discovering the courage to overcome his fear.”

Carrie finally shook her head, looking down at Lank with an expression of tenderness. “Lank is very brave. Much braver than I am …”

Oliver started to question her strange statement, but the door to Lesley’s room opened. Noble, Annamarie, and Letta stepped into the hallway, the adults flanking the girl.

Noble crossed to the bench. “Lesley is sound asleep, and an orderly assures us he’ll stay with him. We’re going to take Letta and Lank to our hotel and let them sleep as late as they like. You two should do the same.”

As much as he wanted to continue their conversation, Oliver glimpsed the dark circles under Carrie’s eyes. She’d had a harrowing day and needed rest. “That’s a good idea, Carrie.”

She gently shook Lank to wakefulness and helped him stand. The boy swayed a bit, and Carrie put her arm around him. But even while supporting Lank, she kept her gaze on Oliver. “You need your rest, too. Are you going to your apartment?”

“Yes. But I’m going to walk you to your boarding hotel first.”

To his delight she didn’t argue. Outside the hospital, waiting for a coach to transport Noble, Annamarie, and the children to the hotel, Carrie suggested, “Shall we meet for supper tomorrow evening at Kesia’s? She’ll be happy to see Letta and Lank since she’s prayed so hard for them to come home. And”—her gaze drifted to Lank, who leaned sleepily on Letta’s shoulder—“we have some decisions to make concerning where the children will go next.”

Letta sighed. “Well, I ain’t gonna run off with the boys again. Seein’ Lesley get hurt like he did pretty much cured me of goin’ off on our own.”

“I’m very happy to hear that.” Carrie smiled warmly at the girl, and Oliver was struck again by her kindness. She could have scolded—she had every right, considering the fright they’d all suffered, wondering where the
children had gone—but she chose to forgive. How he admired her tender spirit.

The coach arrived, and Annamarie turned to Carrie and Oliver. “Are you sure you don’t want a ride?”

Oliver deferred to Carrie. If she chose to ride, he’d be disappointed, but he wouldn’t blame her. He knew she was exhausted. His heart skipped a beat when she thanked Annamarie but declined the offer. After hugging both Noble and Annamarie, Carrie placed a kiss on Letta’s then Lank’s cheek and bade them good-bye.

The horses clopped away, and Oliver offered his elbow. With a smile Carrie slipped her hand through the bend of his arm, and they set off, their matching strides carrying them down lamp-lit boardwalks. The night was quiet, the city asleep beneath a blanket of stars. The clouds had finally cleared, giving them a glimpse of the heavens above. Although hesitant to disrupt the peacefulness, Oliver cleared his throat and raised a question. “Am I invited to supper at Kesia’s, too?”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Of course. You’re the children’s rescuer. Why wouldn’t we include you in a welcome-home supper?”

“Good, because I want in on the discussion of where the children should go. And it isn’t to their grouchy aunt.”

Her laughter trickled out, making him smile. “I couldn’t agree more about the aunt.” Then she turned serious, releasing a soft sigh. “If I had a house, I’d take them myself. But I’m not sure it would be in their best interest. I’m gone so much with my job. They need better supervision than I could give.” She aimed a curious gaze at him. “What are your thoughts?”

Oliver shook his head, grinning at her. “Oh no. Not tonight. Not as tired as we are. This conversation needs to take place when we’re all well rested and our stomachs are aching from Kesia’s good cooking. We’ll discuss my idea tomorrow.”

She affected a pout, but he only laughed at her, and a smile chased the pucker away. He deposited her safely inside her foyer and raised her hand to his lips to deliver a lingering kiss on her middle knuckle. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t pull away. He said very softly, “Good night, Carrie. Sweet dreams.”

She hugged her hand to her breast. “I … I will.”

He left smiling. But as he strode away through the night, his smile faltered. He knew Carrie’s stance on child labor. She’d fight him. He might very well destroy the sweet friendship they’d developed as well as any hope for something more. But the Holcomb children needed a way to provide for themselves. He’d plead his case, and he prayed she’d be sensible enough to listen.

“Kesia, this is the best catfish I’ve ever eaten.” Caroline forked up another bite of the flaky white fillet coated with cornmeal crumbs.

“That’s only ’cause you haven’t tried Lank’s catfish,” Letta claimed, beaming at Caroline from her stool at the end of the counter. Beside her, Lank blushed crimson. She nudged him with her elbow and added, “You gonna teach Miz Kesia how to cook catfish, Lank?”

Lank hunched his shoulders and grinned. Crumbs clung to his chin, and he batted them away before answering. “Guh-guess I cuh-could teach her if she’s guh-guh-got a mind to learn.”

The adults laughed, Caroline included. How marvelous to hear Lank speaking with such freedom! And how marvelous to be able to laugh rather than cringe when someone mentioned cooking. Might God be bringing her a deeper healing from her past?

Kesia reached over the counter to bop Lank lightly on the top of the head. “Don’tcha be setting up a café an’ givin’ me competition now, young man, you hear?”

Lank giggled. “Duh-don’t worry, Muh-Miz Kesia. I’d rather cuh-cuh-catch ’em than cuh-cook ’em.”

She winked. “Then we’ll just hafta go into partnership, hmm?”

Lank nodded and turned his attention back to his plate.

Caroline popped her last bite of catfish into her mouth and pushed her plate aside. Noble and Annamarie had already finished, but Ollie still had several hush puppies. Propping her chin on her hand, she observed him finishing his meal while chatting with Lank and Letta, at ease in their midst. Knowing
his background, she marveled at his ability to fit so comfortably with common folk. He’d make an excellent leader for the factory’s workers.

She had so many reasons to celebrate. The children were back, and Lesley would recover from his injuries. Hightower’s plan had been squashed, and he now sat in a jail cell in Wichita. Noble was pleased with her report about Harmon Bratcher, especially since Hightower had grudgingly admitted leaving the elevator gate open in his haste, thereby creating a danger into which Bratcher unknowingly walked.

Yet sadness tried to weave itself into her soul. Her time in Sinclair neared its end. Once the children were settled somewhere, she, Noble, and Annamarie would return to their home in Lincoln. She’d likely never see Ollie, Kesia, or the children again. She touched the spot on her hand where Ollie had pressed his lips last night, and the emotions that had burst through her chest at the tender gesture attacked again.
My heavenly Father, I don’t want to tell these dear people good-bye …
Tears stung, and she lowered her head lest someone see and ask the reason for them.

“Caroline?”

At Noble’s soft query Caroline sniffed hard and raised her face. “Yes?”

He gestured to the table Kesia and Ollie had dragged out for their use. “Let’s gather over here and let the children enjoy their dessert while we visit.”

She’d fallen asleep last night praying for God to help them make the best decisions for the children’s placement, and she sent up another quick petition.
Pave the way, Father
. She followed Noble and Annamarie to the round table, aware of Ollie close behind her. He held her chair for her, and she offered a quavery smile in appreciation.

Noble, ever the advocate for needy youngsters, took control. “I believe we all agree the children’s aunt is not an ideal caretaker for them. However, according to the laws of the state, as their only living relative—”

Caroline opened her mouth to protest, but Noble held up his hand, silencing her.

“… she has to make the choice not to assume the responsibility. I took it upon myself to send her a wire early this morning, informing her of the
children’s situation. I received a reply midafternoon, and just as I suspected, she has no desire to bring them to her home, given Lesley’s injury.”

Caroline sighed with relief, and Noble squeezed her hand in understanding.

“But that does leave us with a dilemma.” Noble linked his hands on the edge of the table. “If Letta were the only one, Annamarie and I would consider taking her in.”