Wings of a Dove (6 page)

    Mr. Smith's brief announcement “We are in Dowagiac, Michigan” was met with eardrum-piercing cheers from the suddenly jubilant children around her. Abruptly wide awake, Allie got to her feet. They had arrived!

    Turning, Allie glanced quickly around the crowded train station. The younger children were busily collecting blankets and jackets, jabbering excitedly, but not a single one of the older boys was to be seen. Frowning, Allie bent down to scoop her blanket from the floor. She had folded it roughly and was picking up her jacket and Bible when Mr. Smith called them to attention once more.

    "All right, children, that's right, form a line. I don't think it is necessary for me to tell you how very important this day is. It is essential that we make as presentable an appearance as possible. To that end, I will expect that each of you will take special care to wash your hands and face and to groom yourselves as well as may be expected under these rather difficult circumstances. In the meantime, I will negotiate breakfast at the American House Hotel, which the stationmaster advises is the establishment that will best suit our needs." Mr. Smith paused, his bearded face alight with anticipation. "Ready, children? All right, forward, please."

    Excitement leaving her slightly breathless, Allie quickly fell into line at Mr. Smith's urging. She looked around the quiet depot as
 
they moved through the doorway and out onto the street. Warm sun, the silence of early Sunday morning, a nearly deserted street. She took a shaky breath. They would all soon have homes.

    A short time later, Allie stepped away from the outdoor washstand to which the hotel manager had directed them and dried her hands and face on a damp cloth used by several others before her. She walked to the tree where she had left her belongings and paused to glance around her. Violet, one of the older girls, was jealously guarding the comb with which she groomed her long red-gold hair. Violet was a beauty, as well as a strong, hardy girl. Allie had no doubt Violet would be one of the first to find a home.

    Allie ran her hands through her pale, tangled locks in an attempt to modify the disarray, then winced as her fingers became enmeshed in stubborn snarls. Eyes watering, she abandoned the effort as useless a few moments later. Making one last futile attempt to smooth her stained and wrinkled shirtwaist and skirt, she donned her jacket and joined the others as they began walking toward Mr. Smith.

    As the children walked around to the front of the wooden structure bearing the brightly painted sign, "The American House," hooting laughter and sounds of great hilarity sounded from behind. Turning, Allie saw the older boys returning in a state of great excitement, laden with souvenirs of their exploration.

    "This sure be the land of plenty, Mr. Smith!"

    Biting into a bright red apple, carefully polished to impress the others, George grinned in appreciation as Sam passed him up to glance scathingly at his finds.

    "You
ain't
seen
nothin
' like I seen, and you
ain't
found
nothin
' like what I got."

    Holding out his hat, Sam proudly displayed several ripe, juicy peaches. "Found a right nice pond for
swimmin
', too. Clear, sweet water, it was, and a few steps away were a whole stand of trees just
waitin
' for somebody to do some
pickin
'. And them peaches taste even better than they looks. I can tell you that for sure. I already et three!"

    Mr. Smith waved an impatient hand. "In line, boys, now. Breakfast is waiting, and afterward we are expected at church."

    Nervous giggles sounded from the girls around her, but Allie   wasn't smiling. Everyone knew what "being expected" meant. The time had just about come. Who would be the first to be chosen?

    Their ragged line had started up the wooden steps of the hotel when Allie turned again to survey the rear. It appeared all had returned, with one exception. Delaney Marsh was noticeably absent, and Allie's heart dropped to her toes. It was too soon for him to leave. She still needed…

    Catching a sudden movement out of the corner of her eye, Allie turned toward the side of the building in time to see Delaney walking leisurely toward them. Stopping in her tracks, Allie took a deep breath. Delaney had obviously found that pond Sam had spoken of and had put it to better use. Where Sam's blond hair was wet and sticking untidily to his head, his clothes in general disarray as they adhered to his still-damp body, Delaney had apparently taken a few more moments to present an appearance of an entirely different sort. True, his clothes were wrinkled and showed the effects of travel as did those of the others in the group, but his person was spotlessly clean. His thick, heavy hair, neatly combed, fairly glowed and his skin was touched with becoming color after a short hour of exposure to the morning sun's rays. His peculiarly light eyes appeared almost translucent, eerily so against his newly tinted skin as he walked silently erect, unsmiling in sharp contrast with the physical disarray and jubilant enthusiasm displayed by the others.

    Allie swallowed as he approached. Delaney Marsh was very handsome, despite the coldness of his light eyes, and Allie suddenly knew he would be one of the first to be chosen.

    Bearing Mr. Smith's censuring glance without flinching, Delaney paid little attention to the continued excitement of those around him as he assumed his place in line. Allie frowned. For all his earlier kindness to her, Delaney Marsh was again cutting her out coldly, as if he regretted their previous exchanges.

    A sudden nudge from behind pushed her forward, and Allie stumbled on the first step of the wooden staircase. She glared at Violet Marks as she tittered mockingly. Allie was acutely aware how difficult it sometimes was to remain "beautiful inside" when it came to that vain, annoying girl.

    Gritting her teeth with new determination, Allie ascended the staircase.

    The last, hearty refrains of ''Come Ye Sinners, Poor and Needy" were still echoing in the unfamiliar church as Allie cast a nervous glance around its crowded interior. Having arrived early, Mr. Smith had seated the children in the front pews and then proceeded to lead them in a nonstop series of hymns. Turning to the rear, Allie was surprised to see teary eyes and the liberal use of handkerchiefs by some of the less controlled matrons as the vigorous singing came to an end.

    But Allie did not join in the enthusiastic singing, nor was she touched by the refrains. Instead, she continued to study her surroundings with a small frown as the unfamiliar service progressed. She had never seen a church quite like this one before. Where were the beautiful colored-glass windows? Where was the holy water with which to bless herself when she entered? Where were the pictures on the wall the beautiful scenes that brought to life the Bible stories Mama had read to her? Where was the altar with its crucifix, tall candles, and flowers? Where were the statues of the saints with their peaceful faces? Where were the small candles in glass cups, which Mama and she had lit to keep their prayers bright before God's eye? And where was the statue of the Lady with her arms raised in welcome? Kneeling beside Mama in church, Allie had never found it difficult to pray and to believe God heard the words she whispered to him, but here…

    Allie gave a low, trembling sigh. It was different here. In this church the walls were white and bare, and no one knelt to pray. Nothing in this church was in the least familiar. She did not even know the hymns the others sang, and she was all the more lost for the comfort some of the others seemed to feel.

    An abrupt movement in the front of the church drew Allie from her thoughts as a man who had earlier introduced himself as Reverend Martin called Mr. Smith up front and presented him to the congregation. Disconcerted, uncomfortable, Allie barely heard Mr. Smith's brief explanation of the aims of the Society and of its hope that this would be but the first of the groups of orphaned and abandoned children who would find homes in the West. She turned toward the sound of a few short sniffles in the rear, surprised to see some matrons openly crying. Her throat filled up and she resisted the desire to display a similar weakness. Instead, she drew herself to her feet with the rest

    of the children when directed by Mr. Smith, and followed him toward a large meeting room in the rear of the church.

    Her heart pounding, Allie assumed a seat in the corner of the meeting room, relieved to have the attention of the congregation diverted by some of the more gregarious children. She sat erect, as Mama had taught her to do, her chin raised proudly, but somehow she could not make herself smile.

    Swallowing tensely, Allie watched as a young couple approached little Roger. The man gently touched Roger's tousled yellow hair as his wife knelt beside the boy and started to speak. When Roger raised his clear blue eyes to her, the woman's face creased into a tearful smile that said more than words. The flushed young woman enfolded Roger in her arms and hugged him warmly. Allie knew instinctively there was not a possibility in the world that the smiling couple would leave without him.

    She watched as the man spoke with Mr. Smith, who then said a few words to Roger. Within a few minutes, the papers were signed and Roger, no more than seven years old, left with his new family.

    Then it was Violet Marks's turn. A slender red-haired woman approached Violet almost immediately after entering the room. She touched Violet's hair and whispered something to her, a small smile on her face. Allie was startled to see tears spring into Violet's eyes, and for the first time she felt a flash of warmth for the vain, selfish older girl. She supposed Violet would not be so annoying in a household with that red-haired woman and her smiling husband to love her.

    And then it was
Harry's
turn… and Robert's. Gathering her courage, Allie finally looked toward the far corner where the older boys had gathered. As she had suspected, several serious-looking farmers were talking to Delaney. Her heart sinking, she looked away. She knew she would not be able to bear watching him leave.

    And then it was Margaret's turn to go, and John's. Allie raised her chin a notch higher.

    Unsmiling, Delaney answered yet another question posed to him by the tall, sober-faced farmer to his right. He was getting impatient, but he knew it behooved him to remain polite and respectful during the man's inquisition.

    Eyeing the first farmer intently, Delaney attempted to see the man behind the full, sun-reddened face. Without a trace of conceit, Delaney had known it would not be difficult to find a family to take him in. The farmers were all looking for the same thing, cheap labor for their farms, and he had no quarrel with that as long as they upheld their part of the bargain. Delaney was also aware that he was exactly what most of them wanted. He was young and strong and of an age where he could be expected to pull the weight of a fully grown man. He was intelligent and had gotten a primary education beyond that of the average boy in their group. He also knew that he was good-looking, and he had taken pains to present a good appearance.

    Unconsciously drawing his young, broad-shouldered frame up more stiffly, Delaney listened as the first farmer openly discussed him with Mr. Smith. He saw a flicker of doubt move across the man's florid face when prison was mentioned. The other farmers were cautiously watching the man's expression, and Delaney had no doubt that if he did not take him, the second or the third farmer would. He wasn't worried. He knew he could take care of himself wherever he ended up.

    Delaney cast a surreptitious glance toward the opposite corner of the room. Milling couples momentarily blocked his view, and he felt a flash of impatience before a well-rounded farmer stepped to one side, giving him the view he sought. Sitting in the corner totally ignored, her chin bravely raised as it had been since she entered the room was Allie Pierce. An indefinable emotion tugged at Delaney's gut and he frowned. At an awkward stage, she was neither an appealing little girl, nor old enough to perform a woman's tasks on a farm, and she looked so frail. In this crowd of boisterous and active children, she was easily overlooked.

    Suddenly noticing a couple linger near Allie, Delaney watched as the woman turned a hopeful glance back toward her husband, only to have the man shake his head and divert his wife's attention toward a dark-haired girl sitting nearby. The man's reaction did not go unnoticed by Allie. Delaney's stomach twisted painfully as Allie's proud chin rose a notch, her small mouth twitching revealingly.

    Delaney turned his attention back to Mr. Smith as he started to speak.

    "These gentlemen are interested in offering you a home, Delaney. I've informed them of your history, and they have a few questions to ask you. Do you have any objections to answering them?"

    "No, sir."

    The farmer with the high coloring addressed Delaney directly. "You're of an age my wife and I are looking for, boy, but I'm concerned about your history. I would like you to answer me truthfully. Do you intend to honor your contract if we agree to take you on?"