My Heart Remembers (3 page)

Maelle and Mattie exchanged looks of disgust.

“Go now.”

The stern tone spurred them to action. Maelle took hold of Mattie’s hand, and together they dashed across the play yard and into the building. Inside, Mattie giggled. “Yer a good fighter for a girl.”

Maelle sent a frantic look up and down the hall. She heaved a sigh of relief when she realized no one was around. Taking hold of her brother’s shoulders, she gave him a firm shake. “Hush now, Mattie! Are ya wantin’ to get us split up? Don’t ya ever be callin’ me a girl!”

Mattie’s lower lip trembled. “Sorry I am, Maelle—I mean Michael. Sometimes I forget.”

“Well, ya can’t be forgettin’. Not unless ya want me sent to the other side of the building. I told ya: it’s careful we must be.” She frowned, her heart constricting. “We hardly see Molly as it is. I couldna be standin’ it if they took me away from ya, too.”

Mattie barreled against her chest. “I won’t be sayin’ Maelle ever again.”

Maelle kissed the top of Mattie’s head. “Okay it is if you slip, Mattie. Maelle an’ Michael sound enough alike, no one will be questionin’.”

But Mattie shook his head fiercely. “No. I’ll na be makin’ that mistake. Ya’ll always be Michael. I promise.”

Tightness pressed at Maelle’s chest. How long could she continue to be Michael? It was hard to keep the secret—to find a private time for bathing and dressing with so many boys around. She’d kept anyone from looking inside the family Bible where the birth of Maelle Gallagher was recorded in Da’s neat penmanship. Yet she knew the day would come when she’d be found out. And as soon as it happened, she and Mattie would be separated. Who would protect Mattie then?

Swallowing, Maelle said, “An’ I promise to always be lookin’ out for ya, just as I told Da I would.”

They hugged, Maelle’s hold on her brother desperate. The echoing squeak of the door to the play yard intruded, and they broke apart.

“Miss Agnes is comin’.” Mattie’s eyes were wide. “Let’s go!”

Hand-in-hand, they ran to the kitchen.

C
HAPTER
T
HREE

Snuggled together in Maelle’s cot that night in the dark, Mattie nudged his sister and whispered, “Mae—Michael?” Maelle snuffled. “Aye?”

“Is yer lip still hurtin’?”

Maelle touched the swollen lip with her fingertips, grimacing at the tenderness. It hurt, but she’d learned to take the punches without crying. “Fine I am. Ta sleep wi’ ya.”

Cots squeaked as boys shifted. Footsteps echoed in the hallway outside the closed door of the room. One of the boys coughed. Then Mattie’s voice came again.

“Michael?”

“Aye?”

“I’ll be fightin’ me own battles from now on.”

Maelle propped herself on one elbow and peered down at her brother. In the dim light, she could barely make out his features, but she could tell his eyes were huge in his thin face. “Ya’d be pounded to pieces by the bigger boys.”

“But then ya won’t be in no more trouble.” Tears welled in Mattie’s eyes and spilled over. “Maybe they won’t send ya away.”

Maelle frowned. “What?”

“I heard ’em, Maelle. The ladies talkin’. They said ya’d be better off in the country, away from the city an’ all the fightin’. They said—”

Mattie’s voice rose in volume. Maelle put her hand over his mouth to stop his words. “Hush, Mattie. No one’s goin’ ta send me away.”

Mattie’s head bobbed up and down, making the cot creak. “On a train. I heard ’em say so.” He whispered, but his tone was shrill with near hysteria.

Maelle wrapped Mattie in her arms as she lay back down. She stroked his tousled hair, thinking about what he’d said. Sent away on a train . . . Her heart pounded as she realized Mattie could be telling the truth. She’d heard the others talk about trains that carried orphans to western states. Was it possible Miss Agnes would send her to the West, away from Mattie and Molly? Tears gathered in her eyes, but she blinked to push them away.

She’d promised Da to look after the wee ones—how could she do that if she was far away? The more she thought about it, the more frantic she became. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep until she’d spoken with Miss Agnes.

She tipped her ear toward Mattie. His even breathing told her he’d drifted off to sleep. She eased out of the cot, slipping the pillow down for Mattie to snuggle against. On stealthy feet, she crept to the door, opened it wide enough to allow herself to slip through, then closed it behind her without a sound.

In less than a minute she stood breathlessly outside Miss Agnes’s office door, her heart pounding so hard she was sure it would break through her chest. The woman’s eyes widened as Maelle stepped into the room. She put down a pen and fixed her with an unsmiling look. “Michael Gallagher, you should long be asleep. Why are you prowling the hallways at this hour?”

Maelle dashed forward and grabbed the edge of the desk with both hands. “Mum, will ya be sendin’ me away?”

Miss Agnes leaned back sharply, her chair creaking in protest.

“Me brother said it’s so. I told him he need na worry, that ya surely wouldn’t be makin’ me go away. But I couldna sleep.” Maelle held her breath, waiting for Miss Agnes to assure her Mattie was mistaken.

But the woman sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. “Ah, that Mattie . . . Such a bright lad. He misses little, that one. . . .” She opened her eyes and looked steadily at Maelle. “Although I do not like to make announcements until the time of departure, it is true. I plan to send you on the next train. It leaves for Missouri in a few weeks.”

Maelle’s knees went weak. She slid into the sturdy seat of a nearby chair while clinging to the edge of the desk for support. “But . . . but . . . I canna be leavin’ me brother an’ sister.”

Miss Agnes rose and came around the desk, knelt, and placed her hand on Maelle’s knee. “You’re all going—you, Mattie, and Molly. None will be left behind.”

Maelle shrank into the seat, relief nearly toppling her. “You said . . . Missouri?”

“That’s right. A western state with many opportunities for a bright lad like you. Families there are eager for children.” For a moment, the woman’s eyes seemed to dim, her face pinching into a pained expression that frightened Maelle. But then she relaxed her expression. “I worry for you here, Michael. The fighting . . .”

Maelle touched her lip, wincing. “I do na like the fightin’, and I would na fight if I had no reason. The others, they bother Mattie, an’ they try to take me things.”

Miss Agnes tipped her head. “You mean the bag you brought?”

Maelle nodded, scowling as she remembered tussling for the bag. “Those things’re mine. Ma treasured ’em. Da saved ’em from bein’ turned to char. I can’t be losin’ ’em to some dirty orphans.” She spat the last words.

Miss Agnes clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Michael, you mustn’t speak that way. You’ve changed, my boy. This is why I want you to go west. You’re a good boy, but the city is turning you into one like so many others who fight and scrabble for survival. You’re far too fine a boy to be allowed to go that cynical pathway. I believe better things await you out west.”

So sending her away wasn’t a punishment? It was a reward? Pride welled in her chest. She stood. “I thank ya, mum. If I go, I’ll do me best to be a better . . . boy.” She hesitated. “An’ ya’re sure Mattie an’ Molly will be comin’, too?”

That odd look returned to the woman’s eyes, but she nodded. “Yes, Mattie and Molly will go west, too.”

Maelle stuck out her hand. “We’ll go then, mum, an’ gladly. Together, we’ll find our better things in the West.”

Grand Central Depot, New York City

May, 1886

Maelle planted a kiss on Molly’s plump cheek, unable to hold her sister close enough. How she had missed the little dumpling in the weeks at the orphans’ home! But Maelle had been allowed to carry Molly to the train station. Maelle was thrilled to have her sister back in her arms, and she determined that was where Molly would stay the whole journey to Missouri. She’d never let anyone take Molly from her again.

Molly looked so sweet in a lacy white dress and matching bonnet. All the children had been given new clothes this morning for their journey. Maelle had come close to divulging her secret when she’d seen the lovely frocks being offered to the girls. Wool dresses with bows and ruffles and matching capes . . . Oh, how Maelle would love to own even one such beautiful dress!

But instead she’d been issued a white shirt, brown wool trousers, and a matching jacket. She and Mattie had gotten haircuts, too, and it had taken all of her strength to keep from shedding tears at the loss of her hair again. Would she ever be able to grow back the tumbling curls Da had so admired? At least a little billed tweed cap covered her shorn head, hiding her shame.

With pudgy fingers, Molly tugged at the tag pinned to Maelle’s jacket front.

“No, no, sister,” Maelle scolded, shifting the baby’s fingers away. “The tag must be stayin’ in place or our new parents won’t be knowin’ us.”

Tags crinkled on every child’s chest. Miss Agnes had told the twenty-six children who were boarding the train that they would journey four days and three nights, and they must keep their tags intact. Maelle thought it foolish to put the numbered tags on so soon. She hoped she could keep little Molly from tearing loose not only her own tag but Maelle’s and Mattie’s, as well. The year-old baby considered everything a play toy.

“Michael!” Mattie charged across the station’s marble floor and skidded to a stop in front of his sister. He swung their bag in excitement, his eyes wide and glowing. “Did ya see the train?

It’s black an’ shiny, with so much smoke comin’ from a gray chimney. Did ya see it?”

“Mattie, ya’ve already scuffed yer new shoes,” Maelle chided. “An’ yer tag is loose. It’s settlin’ down ya must be or we’ll never get ya to Missouri in good form.”

Mattie looked down at the black boots he’d been given only that morning, his face falling as he noticed the dull scuffs across the toes. “Do ya think our new folks will na take me with scuffed shoes?”

The worry in his voice pinched Maelle’s conscience. He was just a wee boy, excited at the prospect of a train ride. She shouldn’t be so harsh. “Of course our new folks won’t be thinkin’ the less of ya just because of scuffed toes.” She took heart when his smile returned. “But all the same, we must be stayin’ as nice as we can. I’ll have enough keepin’ Molly neat. Can ya mind yer own manners?”

Mattie beamed. “For sure, I can.”

“Good.”

“Children! Children, gather close!” Miss Agnes raised her arms and gestured to the milling throng. The children, some with babies bouncing in their arms and some with bags bumping against their knees, formed a snug circle in front of Miss Agnes. Maelle kept a firm grip on Molly, who leaned forward and tried to grab the hair bow of a little girl in front of her.

“Children, this is Miss Esther.” Miss Agnes put her arm around the shoulders of a thin, bespectacled woman with a long face and wide mouth. “She will be your escort to Missouri. She has already visited Severy, informed the town of your coming, and knows of several families eager to meet you and make you their own.”

Cheers went up from several children, and Mattie and Maelle exchanged smiles of joyful anticipation.

“I trust you will obey Miss Esther on the journey and will show all the people on board what wonderful children you are.” Tears sparkled in the woman’s eyes as she finished. “Now, let us have a word of prayer before you board the train.”

She closed her eyes, folding her hands in front of her. All the children followed suit, except Maelle, who needed to keep her eyes on Molly.

“Bless these children, Lord, as they venture forth. Keep your hand of safety over them, and lead them to the parents who will nurture them and raise them in the knowledge of your love. Amen.”

“Amen,” echoed the children.

Miss Esther clapped her hands. “Form a line now, children! Quickly!”

With giggles and shoves, the children fell into a makeshift line with Maelle and Mattie somewhere in the middle. Maelle whispered, “Get behind me, Mattie, an’ hold on ta my jacket.”

Molly’s wiggling form in her arms and Mattie’s hand on her back reminded Maelle of the night they had escaped the tenement. A wave of homesickness for Ma and Da hit her so hard tears spilled from her eyes. But she blinked bravely and marched in line with the others to their waiting railroad car.
Boys do na cry
, she told herself fiercely. Yet she heard sniffling behind her, and even without looking she knew the sound came from Mattie.

Peeking over her shoulder, she gave her little brother a quavery smile. “Do na cry, Mattie. Do ya na be rememberin’ what Miss Agnes said? We’re goin’ to better things. . . .”

Severy, Missouri

May, 1886

Maelle stood on a raised platform at the front of the sanctuary of the Presbyterian church, flanked by Mattie and a chubby boy named Pat. A splash of color from a stained-glass window high and to her left fell across baby Molly’s head, highlighting the red curling wisps of her hair. Although her shoulders ached from her sister’s constant weight, she held Molly so she faced outward, her tag easily seen. Mattie fidgeted, standing on one foot, then the other. Maelle hoped he didn’t need to use the outhouse.

After four days of sitting on a hard bench, with only brief marches around the train at watering stops for exercise, it felt good to stand. Her heart pounded with hope, even as an odd worry pressed her chest. This was the moment for which they had waited—the moment of meeting their new parents. Before leaving the train to walk to the church, Maelle had asked Miss Esther if parents had already selected her, Mattie, and Molly, but Miss Esther’s reply had been less than satisfying.

Maelle retrieved the words from her memory. “You will all be cared for, Michael. That is what is important.” Then she had raised her shrill voice to address the entire car of children, cautioning them all to be on their best behavior since parents would not choose an ill-mannered child.

Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Mattie’s continued wiggling, and she gave him a light bump with her elbow to settle him down.

Now Miss Esther marched to the double doors at the front of the sanctuary and opened them wide, calling out, “We’re ready. You may come in.”

Maelle pasted a smile on her face and prayed Mattie was doing the same.

The pounding of feet on the wooden floor of the church vibrated through Maelle’s shoes and into her legs as couples poured into the sanctuary. She kept her smile in place as she searched faces, her heart pounding, wondering which of the couples entering the building—if any—had come for her, Mattie, and Molly.

A well-dressed couple approached, the woman’s eyes scanning tags. When her gaze fell on Molly’s, her face lit and she rushed forward. “Reginald, look! There she is—number twelve!”

Before Maelle could react, the woman snatched Molly from Maelle’s arms and held her out to the man. Mattie looked at Maelle, his eyes wide, and she shrugged in response. The woman exclaimed over Molly, touching the baby’s curls and smoothing her plump cheek with her fingers. The man leaned in close. Molly grasped his chin with her dimpled hand, and he and the woman laughed.

“Oh, Reginald, look at her!” The woman beamed up at her husband. “As red-haired and green-eyed as my mother. Oh, she’s just as I imagined her to be!”

Maelle carefully examined the couple. Older than Da and Ma, and wearing fancier clothes than she’d ever seen, they seemed nice enough. Though not as pretty as Ma, the woman’s face was pleasant, her blue eyes shining. The man had thick whiskers growing on both sides of his face leading to a mustache that grew over his upper lip. At first glance, the facial hair gave him a gruff appearance, but when Maelle looked into his eyes, she saw a tenderness there. Surely they would be loving parents.

The woman kissed Molly’s cheek, and finally her gaze drifted to Maelle. She flashed a quick smile. Then the man put his hand on the woman’s back and they turned toward the front doors. Molly blinked at Maelle over the woman’s shoulder.