Laura tipped her head. “That seems unusual to you?”
“Yes. I’ve never met anyone who is so bold and honest about spiritual matters.”
Laura’s throat tightened. “My father was like that.”
He looked her way. “Really?”
She nodded. “It used to embarrass me sometimes when I was younger, but now that he’s gone, I realize what an amazing man he was and how much his faith meant to him.”
Andrew was silent for a moment, then said, “We’ve both been blessed with good examples to follow.”
“Yes, we have.”
He turned toward her, his gaze growing more intense. “With the memory of your father in mind, as well as what I’ve told you about Henry, I hope you’ll reconsider keeping your identity a secret.”
A chill traveled through her. “Why do you say that?”
“When I asked Henry about your situation—”
She gasped and pulled back. “You told him about me?”
“No!” He reached out his hand, but she took another step away. “I didn’t say anything specific. I just stated a hypothetical situation similar to yours and asked his opinion.”
She clenched her jaw and turned away. How could he go behind her back and speak to Henry? She should’ve known she couldn’t trust him.
“Laura, please, I didn’t give away your secret. I was simply trying to see if I could learn anything that would help us.”
“But you promised.” She crossed her arms protectively over her stomach.
“Yes…I did.” He stepped around in front of her. “And I didn’t tell him anything that betrayed my promise.”
She studied his sincere expression, still trying to sort out what he meant. He’d asked Henry for information, but he’d kept her secret. Curiosity pushed away her fear. “Did Henry say anything that would be helpful?”
“I’m afraid the situation is more complicated than I first realized.”
She tensed. “What do you mean?”
“Those who oversee the children’s homes in England have the right to remove children for just about any reason. They can also emigrate them without the parents’ permission. All that’s required is that they inform the parents their children are being sent. And even that can be done after the children leave the country.”
Laura stared at him. “So…you’re saying what happened to my brother and sisters was perfectly legal?”
His expression grew even more solemn. “I’m afraid so.”
“Then what can I do? How can I regain custody? There has to be some way around that.”
“I’m sure there is. And that’s why we need to be honest with Henry and tell him what happened to your family. He’ll help us. I know he will.”
She shook her head, concern engulfing her. “How can you say that? What if he decides I’m the one who broke the law by using a false name to take this position and gain my passage to Canada? He could have me arrested!”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t do that.”
“You have no way of knowing what he’ll do!”
“I told you, Henry is a God-fearing, trustworthy man. I promise he’ll listen to all you have to say and do whatever he can for you and your family, but you must tell him the truth.”
She shook her head. “You don’t understand. Everyone in authority I’ve appealed to has treated me with contempt and turned me away in the cruelest manner. How can you ask me to trust Henry Dowd? I can’t even trust you!” She swung away from him and strode off, her thoughts whirling and her aching heart pounding in her chest.
* * *
Katie lifted the heavy basket of wet sheets and carried it across the yard toward the Hoffmans’ clotheslines. Looking up, she squinted against the bright sunlight. A few wispy clouds feathered across the blue sky. It was only late May, but the heat of the sun burned down on her head and shoulders that afternoon. She set the basket on the ground and wiped her damp face with her sleeve.
She’d spent all morning heating water in a heavy pot over an open fire, and washing and rinsing three loads of laundry. The backbreaking job had to be done outdoors, which made it doubly hard when it was so hot.
When she’d started that morning, the pile of dirty clothes, sheets, and towels had been so high she didn’t think she would be able to finish it all in one day. But it was just after two o’clock, and the family’s clean clothes were now all pinned on the lines, swaying in the slight breeze. She just needed to hang this last load of sheets, and she’d be done. Sweat dripped down the side of her face, and her empty stomach screamed for something to eat.
She glanced over at Mrs. Hoffman, sitting on the porch in the shade, staring out across the fields with her empty gaze. Every once in a while, she would pick up her fussy baby girl and nurse her for a few minutes. Other than that, she hadn’t moved from her chair.
Katie sighed and shook her head slightly. She’d heard some mothers felt sad and worn out after a baby was born, and that certainly seemed true of Mrs. Hoffman. The poor woman barely spoke to anyone, and some days she didn’t even get out of bed until noon. Katie was on her own to prepare breakfast for the rest of the family and start on the day’s chores. Mrs. Hoffman kept the baby with her most mornings, but Katie had to watch Daisy and Daniel while she fed the chickens, collected the eggs, washed the dishes, and cleaned the house.
Some afternoons Katie watched the baby for an hour or two when Mrs. Hoffman passed her off. Katie didn’t mind. She was a sweet little thing. When Katie had asked again about her name, Mrs. Hoffman told her they had decided to call her Darla, after Mr. Hoffman’s mother. The name fit, and Katie was thankful they’d finally given their baby that gift.
Katie picked up the top sheet from the basket. She had to stand on tiptoe to reach up and lift it over the clothesline. Her other foot kicked the basket, and she pulled in a sharp breath. If she wasn’t careful, those clean, damp sheets would fall out in the dirt, and then she would have to start all over again.
Daniel stood a few feet away, swinging a stick back and forth, teasing their collie, Charger. The dog watched eagerly, leaping and barking at the stick, but then Daniel jerked it up high, out of reach, and laughed. It wasn’t a happy, playful laugh but mean and taunting.
Katie pulled a clothespin from her apron pocket and reached up to pin the sheet in place. “Daniel, why don’t you throw that stick? I’m sure Charger will fetch it for you.”
“I don’t want to.” He gave Katie a surly scowl. “He’s just a dumb old dog.”
Katie sighed and draped the next sheet over the line. What was wrong with that boy? Charger was a beautiful dog, lively and obedient, eager to please—nothing like Daniel.
His little sister Daisy sat at the bottom of the porch steps, playing in the dirt. She had collected a few stones and was stacking them up and pouring dirt over them. Her hands, face, and dress were smeared with dusty brown streaks.
Katie groaned under her breath—more laundry for her to wash. But at least Daisy was content and not hanging on Katie’s leg.
Mrs. Hoffman glanced at her daughter. “Daisy, get out of the dirt.” Her slow, monotone words hung in the hot air, but the woman didn’t move from her chair.
Daisy kept right on playing, ignoring her mother. She seemed to know her mother wouldn’t get up and make her obey.
The dog let out a painful yip, and Katie spun around.
Daniel swung the stick again and brought it down across the dog’s back.
Katie gasped. “Daniel, stop! Don’t hit him!” She dropped the wet sheet and lunged for the boy, but she was too late. He whacked the dog again. Charger yelped and dashed off toward the barn.
“What is wrong with you?” Katie grabbed hold of his arm and tried to pull the stick away, but he held on tight.
“Let go of me!” The boy squirmed and twisted.
“Not
until you give me that stick!”
Daniel growled and tried to wrestle free, but Katie wouldn’t let him go.
“Take your hands off my boy!” Mr. Hoffman’s voice boomed behind her. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back. That broke her hold on Daniel, and he went flying in the opposite direction. The boy landed on the ground and burst out crying like someone was beating him.
Mr. Hoffman jerked her closer, his eyes bulging and his face red and glistening with sweat. “If I ever see you touch my son again, I’ll teach you a lesson you won’t forget.” He shook her hard. “Do you hear me?”
“Yes sir, but I was just trying to stop him from—”
“Don’t sass me! I won’t stand for it!” He shoved her away, and she fell back, tipping over the basket of wet sheets and falling to the ground. The clean laundry spilled out around her, landing in the dirt.
Katie’s breath came in short gasps, and her heart thundered. Why was he so angry with her? She was just trying to stop Daniel from beating Charger. His unruly son was the one who needed a scolding, not Katie!
Mr. Hoffman glared down at her, pointing his shaking finger. “Get up and get back to work! I swear you are the orneriest home child I ever met! You aren’t worth the three dollars I paid for you.”
Katie gulped in a breath, her eyes stinging. She had tried so hard to do everything he and his wife asked, even though their house was disgusting and dirty and they never lifted a finger to help. She hadn’t complained about sleeping in the barn loft with the bats and mice or working all day and never hearing a kind word from them. She glanced at the porch, hoping Mrs. Hoffman would speak up for her, but the woman just stared at them in stony silence, her face like a hard mask.
Daniel’s crying slowed to whimpering and sniveling, and he wiped his runny nose on his shirtsleeve.
“You’re all right, boy.” Mr. Hoffman reached out his hand and pulled Daniel up. He swatted him lightly on the backside, then strode off toward the barn.
Daniel watched his father for a moment, then turned toward Katie. “Pa’s right. You’re just an ornery home child, and I don’t have to listen to you.” He stuck out his tongue and wagged his head back and forth.
Katie’s face blazed. What an awful boy! It wouldn’t do any good to reprimand him. He’d just find a way to blame her and make sure Mr. Hoffman punished her instead of him. She turned away and gathered the damp, dirty sheets.
Tears burned her eyes as she walked back to the fire and dumped the soiled laundry into the simmering pot. At least she hadn’t poured out the rinse water, and she could use it to rewash the sheets. She scooped out some soap powder and added it to the water. Then she grabbed the wooden paddle and swished it back and forth. The sheets swirled in the water, and the dirt slowly washed away. The water turned gray-brown, but when she lifted out the sheets, the dirt was gone.
If only she had some way to wash away the painful stains that had darkened her life. But she was marked as an orphan, a home child, and not worth the pittance people paid to bring her to their homes to do their work.
Please, Lord, help me find my way home.
15
Andrew looked up from the letter he was writing to his mother and stared out the port window. What would she be doing at this time in the afternoon—visiting her friend Charlotte Larkin or walking in the rose garden? Perhaps she was speaking to Mrs. Ellis, the housekeeper, or Mr. Harding, the gardener. Had she found a new lady’s maid to replace Laura? He considered asking, but he decided to honor his promise to Laura and not bring up the topic in his letter.
Whatever his mother was doing today, he hoped she was well and finding comfort in her friends and her faith, for she certainly would not find it with his father.
Henry crossed the cabin and stood before the mahogany dressing table with the marble washbasin. He focused on his reflection in the mirror and combed his hair with careful attention. When he finished, he adjusted his tie.
Andrew’s curiosity grew as he watched his friend. Henry was always careful about his appearance when he dressed in the morning, but this midday grooming seemed a bit unusual. “Are you going out?”
“Yes. How do I look?” Henry turned toward him.
“You look fine, as you always do.”
“Good. I thought I’d take a stroll on deck.” A slight smile creased his face. “Miss Carson and her girls are usually there about this time.”
Andrew’s eyebrows rose. “You’re hoping to see Miss Carson?”
“I am.” He turned back to the mirror, checking his appearance once more. “I’ve been impressed by her each time we’ve met. She is a woman of faith, substance, and compassion, as well as being charming and quite lovely.”
Andrew hadn’t really taken too much notice of Miss Carson, but he supposed what Henry said was true.
“As I was praying about it this morning, I realized there are only a few more days until our arrival in Canada, and I ought to make the most of that time.” He straightened his vest. “So…I’ve decided to invite Miss Carson to dinner.”
“Doesn’t she dine with the third-class passengers?”
“Yes, but there are two empty places at our table. I spoke to the maître d’. He told me they are reserved for a Mr. and Mrs. Norton, but the man is not well, and he and his wife prefer to take their meals in their cabin. So I asked if I might invite a guest.”
“And the maître d’ agreed?”
“Yes. He said he’d be glad to seat Miss Carson at our table.”
Andrew grinned and nodded. “Why don’t I invite Miss Hopkins to dine with us as well?”
“You’re interested in pursuing Miss Hopkins?”
Andrew blinked, surprised by the suggestion, and he decided not to answer directly. “I thought Miss Carson might be more willing to accept your invitation if both she and Miss Hopkins were invited.” It would also give Laura the opportunity to get to know Henry and see that he would be a trustworthy advocate in their search for her siblings.
“I believe you’re right. That’s an excellent idea.”
Then another thought struck, and Andrew frowned. “But I doubt they’d both be able to get away at the same time. Who would keep an eye on the girls?”
Henry thought for a moment, then smiled. “I think we can find someone suitable to watch over the girls.” He glanced toward the door. “Shall we take a stroll on deck and see if we can find them?”
Andrew nodded. “Just give me a moment.” He set aside his pen and letter and rose from his chair. While Henry waited for him by the door, he slipped on his suit jacket.
Henry’s comment about pursuing Miss Hopkins cycled through his mind. Laura was intelligent and attractive, with many fine qualities, but they had very different backgrounds. If he brought home his mother’s former lady’s maid as his intended, his father would certainly object.
He might push against his father’s will when it came to pursuing his partnership with Henry and practicing law in London, but he could only push him so far.
He gave his head a slight shake. Henry could choose to court Rose Carson, but Andrew did not have that same freedom to pursue Laura McAlister, even if the idea was an inviting one.
“Ready?”
“I’m right behind you.” Within two minutes, they stepped out on the promenade deck and into the sunshine.
“What a fine day.” Henry set off at an easy pace.
“We have had exceptional weather.” They passed people lounging in deck chairs and standing by the railing, gazing out to sea. The ship slowly dipped and rose, and he realized he’d grown so used to the movements that they barely registered with him now. He had definitely gained his sea legs.
They strolled on, and he soon heard girls’ chatter and laughter. He scanned the view ahead and spotted Laura, Rose, and several of the girls gathered around a shuffleboard court. He glanced at Henry. “Ther
e they are.”
“Yes, I see.” Henry picked up his pace, and Rose looked up as he approached. “Good afternoon, ladies.” Even though he said ladies, his focus was on Rose. “It looks like you’re enjoying the day.”
Rose returned a warm smile. “We are, and the girls are becoming quite skilled at shuffleboard.”
Laura’s gaze darted to Andrew, but then she quickly looked away. Her cheeks glowed pink, and she stepped closer to the girls gathered at the other end of the shuffleboard court.
She was probably remembering their last conversation and hoping to avoid another private encounter. That bothered him, but he wasn’t about to push in where he wasn’t wanted. She was the one who had run away and left him standing alone on the deck.
Henry joined Rose and engaged her in conversation about the game.
Andrew stood on the side, watching the girls as they used their cues to push the black and red discs to the opposite end of the court. They took turns and cheered each other on no matter how many or few points were scored. That brought a smile to his face. Obviously, someone had been teaching them how to encourage their friends, and he suspected Laura played a big part in that.
She leaned down and whispered in the ear of the girl who was up next. The little girl smiled and nodded, then stepped into place. With a careful shove she sent her disc sliding and knocked her opponent’s disc off the court. Her team cheered, and a smile burst across her face.
Andrew clapped. “Good shot.”
Laura looked up and returned a tentative smile before she focused on the girls again.
That was enough for him. He crossed and joined her. “You’re doing a fine job with these girls.”
She kept her gaze focused on the girls rather than Andrew. “They enjoy learning new games.”
No Ocean Too Wide Page 24
