“The way things are going, I’m not sure I can afford to be married.”
Nick laughed. “Too late to think of that now, my friend. But you’ll be glad you got married. Take my word for it, you’ve done the right thing.”
Chapter Four
Meg had never traveled outside of South Carolina. She enjoyed the train and the changing scene from the window. By the time she reached Memphis, though, she was happy to walk around the station on a surface that didn’t sway. She enjoyed watching people and imagined stories for each one. Some of the tales she kept in a journal, but most she didn’t commit to paper.
The scents of locomotives filled the air. She inhaled the smell of steam and smoke and a peculiar, but not unpleasant, aroma she’d only found at a train depot. Certainly, a lot of people bustled about. A few loitered and gave her long stares as she passed.
Uncle Grady had cautioned her several times on avoiding pickpockets and swindlers. Most of the money she had left from her withdrawal was inside her corset in Vivian Watson’s crocheted bag. Meg had saved out enough in her purse to pay for meals and souvenirs—and to tempt a thief. The thought was a reminder to be more cautious.
She spotted a woman with two children and chose to sit facing them. Each had an attractive quilt. The children were sleeping wrapped up in theirs and the woman had hers wrapped around her shoulders.
Meg couldn’t help speaking to the woman, “Those are beautiful quilts. Did you make them?”
The woman coughed into a handkerchief several times. “Yes, thank you,” she said in a strained voice. “This one I have around me is my favorite.”
“I sew but I’ve never seen lovelier work.” She smiled wistfully as she observed the boy and girl. “Your children look like little angels, don’t they?”
The woman smiled. “They are angels. Well, most of the time. They’ve certainly been good while we’ve been here.”
Their mother’s voice must have roused them. The little boy sat up, his bright blue eyes regarding Meg with curiosity. The little girl rubbed her eyes and clasped her doll as she sat up and leaned against her mother. She brushed golden curls from her cheek and smiled shyly.
Meg smiled at both children then focused on the girl. “What’s your doll’s name?”
The child smoothed her rag doll’s yarn hair. “Arabella, but mostly I call her Bella.”
“She’s very lucky to have you.” To the boy, she asked, “Does your dog have a name?”
He held up the toy of tattered brown cloth. “I call him George.”
Meg tilted her head. “You know, I believe he looks like a George. I once knew a man of that name whose expression was very much the same.”
The boy laughed and looked at his dog’s face.
Their mother gave them each a coin. “Go get milk and crackers.”
The little boy took the girl’s hand and they went to the counter nearby.
Meg turned toward the mother. “They’re adorable. Traveling with children must be hard for them and for you.”
The woman looked around then moved to sit with Meg. “We’re not traveling. My name is Ida Owens. This is the only place I could think of where we could stay without anyone tossing us out. But the head guard is beginning to watch us too closely. I’m afraid we’ll be asked to leave soon.”
She coughed into her handkerchief several times. “My husband died three months ago and two days ago we lost our home. We… we had to leave everything. I convinced the creditors to let me keep these quilts because we don’t have warm coats.”
She swallowed hard and her lips trembled. “They let me bring two suitcases of the children’s belongings. We had to leave so many things I treasured. Not that we had anything expensive, but they meant something to me.”
Was this woman trying to get money from her? “I’m Meg Todd… McClain. I’m so sorry. What will you do?”
“I’ve been praying for someone like you. You see, I have consumption. I’ve only days left to live and I want to make sure my children are taken care of without them having to go to an orphanage.”
Still questioning the woman’s honesty, Meg surveyed Ida’s appearance. Her skin was gray except for feverish red patches on her cheeks, her lips were almost blue. Red-rimmed eyes had dark circles under them. Ida appeared very ill, so perhaps she was being truthful.
Meg patted Ida’s arm. “Oh, how terribly sad for you. Do your children know?”
“Yes, although at four, I doubt Penny understands. Tom is six and mature for his age. I believe he knows what death means because of losing his father.”
Ida leaned toward her. “Mrs. McClain… Meg, if you can see clear to take charge of them, then I can die in peace.”
Startled, Meg clasped a hand to her throat. “Me? Ida, you know nothing about me. I’m not, but for all you know I could be a criminal.”
Ida’s sad eyes regarded Meg. “You’d be surprised. I studied you as I’ve done many people the past two days we’ve been here. In addition to having a kind face, you spoke to me and to my children. You have compassion, I can tell. Please, I must know Penny and Tom will be loved and cared for when I’ve passed. I haven’t long, probably only days but it could be less.”
Meg considered Ida’s request. She was drawn to the two children—perhaps because she already missed her niece and nephew so much. Of course she sympathized with Ida. But what would Curtis think?
“I’m not certain my husband would approve of me showing up with two children. What I can do is get the three of you warm clothes and take you to have a good meal.”
“Oh, if you could get them warm clothes, I’d appreciate your help. That would help them. I’ll wait here.”
“I’ll guess your size.”
Ida shook her head. “No, please don’t waste your money. I can’t possibly live much longer. For their sakes I’m trying to hold on, but the struggle is almost more than I can manage. But I’d love for my children to have a good meal and warm clothes.”
“Certainly I can provide that.”
The woman clasped her hands in front of her chest. “Thank you, thank you.”
Thinking about the two small children losing their one remaining parent so soon after the first created a swell of sympathy in Meg. What would she do if this were her? What would she tell her children?
She looked at Ida with conviction. “We need to find a photographer and have your photo made with the children. They’re young and need a reminder of the three of you together. Even though they won’t forget you, time might dull their memory of how you look without a visible reminder.”
Tears ran from Ida’s eyes. “I knew you were an angel sent to help us. Please consider taking charge of them permanently. They’re a blessing, both obedient and smart.”
The children ran up and Tom frowned. “Mama? Are you all right? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, dear. This kind lady is Mrs. McClain and she thinks we should have our photograph taken together.”
Meg stood and held out her hand to him. “Let’s find out where there’s a photography studio.”
First she went to the ticket agent and asked about staying overnight and catching tomorrow’s train. She also asked him to recommend a respectable hotel that was not expensive and that was nearby. He gave her a suggestion and directions.
They went there and she hesitated before entering.
“Is something wrong?”
“This isn’t a very nice hotel, but I suppose for one night it’ll be all right.” They went in and Meg booked a room for the night and inquired about a place for photographs.
Once they had the directions, they set out on the next part of their quest. “Now that I have a place to sleep tonight, we have to find the place to get your photograph made. Look, there’s the photography studio the hotel clerk mentioned. Let’s make an appointment for the photos then go tell your mother and Penny.”
When she helped Ida to the studio, Meg was shocked at how frail the other woman was. Ida was barely able to walk. Tha
nk goodness the photographer was on the ground floor. Ida would never have been able to tread the stairs.
Fear shone from Ida’s eyes. That let Meg know Ida was far weaker than she let on even to her. What if Ida died at the train station right in front of the children? What would happen to them? They’d probably be taken to an orphanage right away. Would anyone show sympathy that they’d just lost their mother?
They posed for photographs—Ida with both children then Meg with both children. They returned to the train station so Ida could sit down. Ida could never make it up the hotel stairs to their rented room and the lobby had no place for a woman with a quilt around her shoulders.
Once she was seated on a bench, Ida broke into another spate of coughing. This time, Meg noticed spots of fresh blood on the handkerchief. How horrible for Ida and for her children.
Meg saw only one choice. She supposed she’d already made up her mind when the photographs were taken or she wouldn’t have posed with the children. “If you think I could take your place as their mother, I’ll certainly try.”
Ida sagged against the bench’s back and sobbed, “Thank you, now I can go in peace.”
Meg invited Ida to stay with them for the night, but once again there was the problem of the stairs. Besides, the poor woman wanted to go to a hospital. Apparently, Ida feared dying while the children were present. The thought of Penny and Tom witnessing their mother’s death was horrifying to Meg.
She gently pulled each child to stand in front of her. “Do you understand that you will go with me and that I will be your new mother?”
Penny reached for Ida. “No, I want my mama.”
Tom looked at Meg with ancient eyes. “I understand, Mrs. McClain. Penny’s little but she’ll be all right once she gets used to things.”
His bravery and sadness was heartbreaking. A six-year-old should never have to feel like he carried the weight of the world on his small shoulders. He should be too busy playing with his friends to be concerned about anything more serious than whether he could do his school work and have time to play.
She took his hand in hers. “I’m going to Montana where it’s really cold in winter. My husband publishes a newspaper and I’ll have to help him part of the time. Will living with us be satisfactory?”
She could have bitten her tongue. The boy acted so mature for his age she’d talked to him as if he were thirty.
He nodded vigorously. “I can help a lot I promise. We won’t be any trouble for you at all. I can cook and take care of Penny.”
Meg shook her head and smiled at the child. “You need to be a boy and play sometimes. I can cook, but you might need to help with the newspaper or your sister once in a while. I don’t know what the house there looks like, so I don’t know if you’d have your own room or not.”
“That doesn’t matter, long as we have a place to live where nothing can hurt us and where there’s enough food for Penny to grow.”
“Then we have a deal, Tom.”
Pleased that was arranged, she sent her husband—what an odd feeling—a wire.
Nothing bad but delayed a day in Memphis Stop Will now have two orphans ages four and six with me Stop Meg Todd McClain
Tom looked up at her as they walked across the street. “Will Mr. McClain be mad?”
She hoped not but wondered. Two unexpected children might raise his hackles. “I don’t know why he would be. It’s a small town and he won’t be inconvenienced. The only problem we have to worry about is whether the river freezes before our boat can reach the stage line.”
When she saw his frown, she squeezed his hand. “Never mind, Tom. You’ve no reason to worry. We have a lot of exciting things to accomplish before we take the train tomorrow.”
“We do?”
“Oh, yes. We have to shop for warm clothes and boots for you and Penny and me. We have to find another trunk for the quilts and our new purchases. I hope your mama will feel like us taking her to a nice restaurant for dinner. We have to take your mama to the hospital and make sure she’ll be well-cared for there. That seems a lot to me, but I imagine we’ll think of a few more things before we board our train tomorrow.”
His eyes rounded like saucers. “Penny and me get new shoes?”
“You sure do and so do I. They have to be sturdy so our feet stay warm and dry when there’s snow on the ground. I’ve heard that in Montana Territory winter brings a lot of snow.”
He stopped and looked down at his scuffed upper leather shoe tops pulling loose from the soles. “These hurt my toes. Mama said they’re too short.”
“We’ll soon fix that. Now, the important thing is that you don’t worry.”
He dragged his feet in a sort of shuffling gait. She didn’t know if it was due to the ill-fitting shoes or if there was another reason. He continued looking down. “Can’t help it ’cause I have to take care of Penny. See, I know Mama’s awful sick. She said she’s going to be an angel real soon. I don’t want her to go, but she said she has to even though she’d rather stay with us.”
Meg longed to pull the child into her arms and hug him tightly to offer comfort and kind words. She doubted he’d welcome that action. And what could she say that would make up for losing his mother?
Softly, she said, “But, you can see how tired she is and that she coughs too much. All that’s been keeping her alive was finding someone to look after you and your sister. She doesn’t want you to go to an orphanage. Now you have me, and she can finally rest easy.”
He brushed a sleeve across his eyes and sniffed. “I know you’re right, but I don’t wanna be without her. Losing Papa was awful, but we’re closer to Mama. She and Papa grew up in an orphanage and she didn’t want us having to go there. Sometimes, people want to adopt one child but not the brother or sister. She wants Penny and me to stay together.”
“You should, and now you will.”
Meg and the children found the department store recommended by the hotel clerk. Their first purchase was a trunk, followed by clothing and boots for each of them. After their purchases were rung up, the children donned their coats and boots and a new set of clothing each. Everything else was packed into the trunk, including Meg’s thin cloak and shoes.
Dressed more appropriately for winter weather, Meg asked that the trunk be delivered to the hotel. When they passed a book shop, Meg gathered all the books she could carry for children and for adults.
Tom helped carry some of them to the counter. “You sure read a lot of books. Will you read to Penny and me?”
“I’d love to, Tom. Books are such treasures. Wouldn’t being able to write stories be amazing?”
When the clerk totaled the amount, she realized she might have gone a little overboard. Surely even a newspaper owner took time to read each evening in winter months. The books were also to be delivered to the hotel.
“Now we need to take your mother to dinner.” Meg guided the children toward the train station.
Tom’s face sobered. “Mama don’t eat much.”
“She’ll enjoy watching you two eat your fill. Think about what you’ll order.”
His eyes widened. “You mean we can get what we want?”
“You may if it’s on the menu.”
Penny frowned. “What’s a menu?”
“That’s a list the waiter gives you of what the restaurant serves. Usually there are a lot of things to choose from. Sometimes, though, there are only a couple of choices.”
As soon as they came within sight of Ida, Penny ran. “Mama, Mama, look at my new clothes and shoes. And there’re more clothes and picture books.”
Struggling from where she’d lain on the bench, Ida looked as though she could barely manage to sit up. She appeared to have grown weaker in the short time they’d been gone. “You look like a little princess. Oh, Tom, you look so grown up in your new clothes.”
What would Meg do if Ida passed out or passed away here? Poor woman appeared too weak to stand yet she smiled for her children. Although Meg had always tho
ught she would be a good mother, watching Ida was inspiring.
Meg sat on the bench beside Ida and told her about the purchases. “I see that you’re much weaker and sicker than I realized. Tom and Penny are delightful children.” She offered her journal to Ida. “If you’re certain you trust me, then please write down their birthdays and the full name of you and their father. When they’re older, they’ll want to know about you.”
With a flick of her wrist, Ida declined the journal. “Inside the darker suitcase there’s a letter with all that included. Knowing you’re thinking of their future relieves me even more. Bless you, I can rest in peace now.”
“We want to take you to dinner if you feel well enough. If not, we can take you to the hospital right now.”
The other woman had tears in her eyes. “I should go to the hospital as soon as possible, but I so want to see my babies eat well. They’ve had very little the past few weeks.”
Meg had watched as the children played quietly near their mother.”Who’s hungry?”
Tom said, “I am.”
Penny clapped her hands and jumped. “Me, too.”
Meg patted Ida’s hand. “Everything is arranged here.
The other woman grasped Meg’s wrist. “But I don’t want you to linger after I get to the hospital. I don’t want the children’s last memory of me to be of me in a bed there. Thanks to you, they’ll have the picture of us to remember me.”
“I understand, Ida. There’s a restaurant across the street. Can you walk that far if I help?”
Ida nodded slightly, as if even that much movement took all her energy. “I must. Then, if you don’t mind, I’ll tell my babies goodbye and go to the hospital for the rest of the time I have left. I won’t be there long.”
With Meg wrestled with one of the suitcases and assisting Ida, they crossed the street and went into the dining room. Tom struggled with the other suitcase while Penny practically dragged Meg’s valise. People stared at them. Meg imagined they were an odd picture with three in new clothes and Ida wearing a tattered dress and wrapped in a beautiful quilt. Meg forced herself to appear cheerful, but her heart was breaking for Ida’s suffering.
Meg Page 3
