The Hope of Azure Springs

by Rachel Fordham

  “Indeed there is.” He was looking at the house. The playfulness gone. Was he thinking of Eliza? She wished she knew.

  The silly conversation suddenly did not seem as fun and diverting. She was ready to be out of the tree and back in the house with everyone else. Dryly, she said, “Tell me your news.”

  “Don’t sound too excited.”

  Em forced a smile. “I’m sorry. I do want to hear your news.”

  “When they told me one of the men’s names was Alroy, I couldn’t figure out why that name meant anything to me. Then a couple days later I remembered that I’d seen the name Alroy in the metal box.”

  He looked at her expectantly. Taking his lead, she smiled. “In the box? The one we found? I don’t understand.”

  Caleb lowered his voice as though he were sharing a great secret. “Seems George and Gerda’s son was named Alroy. Well, he wasn’t really their son. At least not by birth. George and Gerda got him through the Aid Society. I’m not sure what it all means, but I do know that the two were connected. I wonder what type of relationship they had for Alroy to come back and kill his own guardian.” Caleb looked excited about the clues starting to come together.

  Em felt none of the excitement. “The Aid Society? Do you think George and Gerda got Alroy off an orphan train? What was the date on the paper?”

  “I don’t remember the exact date. I’ll pull it out and look again. We can look tonight. Are you going to move to the room by the jail?”

  “I don’t know. I like it here with the Howells, but I don’t want to be a burden. And if you are just leaving again . . .”

  “You’re right. Stay here—you’ll be plenty safe. The gang is south, we know that. We’ll get to them before they have a chance to head this way. But come meet me at the jail tomorrow morning before you go to work. We can dig through the papers together. Maybe something we read will help us figure out more pieces of the puzzle. Can you come at eight? I’ll fit in a bit of a lesson for you too.” Caleb jumped out of the tree. “I’ve been riding hard today and Amos needs that saddle off his back.”

  Em turned to scurry down the tree, but he reached out his arms and put them carefully around her waist to help her. “You ought to slow down.”

  “I’m feeling better all the time.”

  The two walked toward the house together.

  “I think you’ll like working with Mrs. Anders,” Caleb said. “I’ve always admired her. Seems not enough women really live. But Mrs. Anders, I believe she does. If she loves a color, she wears it. If she likes a type of food, she eats it. If she wanted to climb a tree, I think she would. You two will get along well.”

  “I prayed for a way to find money. I don’t know if you are a believing man or not, but I have no worries about working there. I think the job is an answer to my prayers.”

  “I’m a believing man. Although I confess I haven’t prayed as often as I should.” Caleb smiled down at her. “I will though. Tonight. Good day to you, Miss Em.”

  He started walking off. Before getting too far, he turned around and asked, “Is your name just Em?”

  “Are you using a question?”

  “Won’t you just answer, because I’ve been wondering for over a week if it was? I thought perhaps your name was Emily or Emma.”

  Em felt a knot rise in her throat. He had been thinking of her all this time. He had been thinking of her! The other voice in her head reminded her it was his job to solve the case. Perhaps he thought knowing her name would help somehow.

  “My family always called me Emmy. I knew that wasn’t my real name, but I never thought to ask if Em was short for another name and then suddenly they were gone and I’ve been just plain Em ever since.”

  “Hmmm,” he said as he walked away.

  Plain Em walked to the house. Why had she never asked? Distraught by the reminder that she was just Em and no longer anyone’s Emmy, she entered the house.

  Nine

  Em woke before the sun was up. She knew it was too early to start her day. She was restless, though, and could not sleep. Afraid she would wake the girls, Em lay in her bed for what felt like several hours. Finally, when she could wait no longer, she rose and quietly walked to the window. The stars were just beginning to fade. Soon the house would wake. She could busy herself and the minutes would go faster.

  When Em was a small girl and her pa was still alive, her mother had promised to teach her to read. Her father’s death and her mother’s long hours changed everything. After she arrived home from her full day as a maid, her mother was always so tired. So tired that Em stopped asking for lessons. But in her heart the desire to read never diminished. Often she’d seen letters and had wanted to understand them. Oh, how she hated feeling left out, that everyone knew what the words said and meant and she did not. Now today she would have her first lesson.

  Mae stirred in her bed, the sheets rustling about her. The movement caused Milly to rouse, and soon both girls were slowly opening their eyes. Milly sat up and reached her arms high above her, stretching for the sky. Em walked over to them. “Good morning, girls.”

  “I was dreaming about the social. I wish it were tonight,” Milly said while rubbing sleep from her eyes.

  Em brushed the hair from her little friend’s face. “Four nights is not long to wait.”

  “But it will seem like a very long time,” Milly said. “When I’m excited, time goes so slow.”

  “That is a feeling I do understand,” Em said, thinking of the much-anticipated reading lesson.

  “Are you very excited too?” Mae asked. “Will it be hard for you to wait?”

  Em wrinkled her nose. “Actually, I don’t dance. I’m not nearly as excited as the both of you. Come along, you two, and get up. The time will pass quicker if we do not sit around feeling sorry that today is not the social.” Em reached for little Mae’s hands and pulled her up.

  “Ah, Em, let me sleep a little more.”

  “I will not.” She tickled the sleepy child, making her laugh. Her infectious giggles spread to her sister. Soon Em and the girls were all laughing as she pulled them from the bed. Each time she pried a girl off the mattress, the other crawled back in. Em ran around the bed as quickly as she could, pulling them up, then running around for the other girl. They giggled more—even Em, who was surprised by the newfound energy her healthy body possessed, laughed as she darted around the room.

  Falling onto the bed herself, she declared, “I give up. I will send up your mama. She’ll know how to get you two sleepyheads out of this bed.” Em rose and marched for the door. Her dramatic steps brought about more laughter. Soon the girls were by her side.

  “We’re up. Don’t make Mama come get us,” Milly said.

  Em helped them dress and make their bed. Satisfied that they had left the room presentable, they all went to join the family downstairs. Only breakfast stood between her and her lesson; she was so close. Walking past a sampler, Em looked at the letters. Soon she would read it and so many other words.

  “Abigail, what can I do to help you this morning?” Em asked.

  “Good morning, Em. Getting those two girls up and going is always a big help.”

  “I did have to work extra hard to get them up this morning.”

  “I thought I heard some commotion above us. Are you ready for your new position? I do worry about you working yourself too hard.” Abigail stirred a pot with a wooden spoon while she spoke. “You will be careful?”

  Em nodded, grateful for Abigail’s concern.

  “What time do you need to be there?” she asked, her hand never ceasing its stirring.

  “Caleb would like me to meet him at eight. I work at twelve. But if you need me here, I can send a message to Caleb and stay.”

  “I have Mae and Milly to help me. You keep your plans with Caleb.” Abigail’s dimple appeared in her cheek. “He is a nice man, isn’t he?”

  Em didn’t answer right away. She began setting the table, happy to be busy so she did not have to look
into Abigail’s eyes. If Abigail saw her face, she would know how much Caleb’s friendship meant to her. “He is very good to help me and worry so much about my being safe.”

  “Indeed. It’s very good of him to care about your safety. This is ready—let’s gather everyone to the table.”

  The breakfast conversation was congenial. Abraham always asked how everyone slept and what the girls were going to do during the day. Em loved the shared meal and friendly faces.

  “Em, do you need to do anything else before you leave?” Abigail asked.

  “I thought you didn’t work until twelve,” Eliza said before Em could answer.

  “Em has a meeting with Caleb this morning at eight. She will be going to work right after that.” Directing her attention back to Em, Abigail said, “While you finish getting ready, I’ll pack you an afternoon meal.”

  “You needn’t do that.” Em, uncomfortable taking additional charity, squirmed in her seat. Already she was unsure how she would ever repay them for their kindness. Eliza’s cold expression wasn’t making things any easier.

  “I won’t take no for an answer,” Abigail said.

  Abraham set down his fork. “I’ve seen her like this before. When my Abigail has made up her mind, there is no changing it. Best to just admit defeat.”

  “Very well. I appreciate it. Thank you both for all you’ve done.” Em rose from the table and started gathering empty dishes. “You’ve been so good to me.”

  With her hand fisted, Em knocked on the jailhouse door.

  “Em, you’re here. Come in,” Caleb said, his eyes flashing with excitement as he grabbed her hand and pulled her inside. “I dug through the box more after leaving yesterday. Hurry in, I want to show you.”

  Em wished she could read now so she could share in the discovery. From across the desk, he pushed a paper toward her. “I can’t read it.” She started to push it back, but then realized it was a wanted poster. Taking a closer look at the old, yellowed paper, she was startled to see the face of the red-haired man. He was visibly younger, but it was him. The infamous Alroy.

  “This is him. The red-haired man who killed George. What does it say?”

  “Says WANTED FOR ROBBERY. There’s no name. My guess is they only had a description to go off of at the time. I think George was looking for Alroy. The money in the bag has to be from the robberies. I’m not sure how George came by it. There are still missing pieces, but it seems like a clue to me.”

  Caleb took the poster back and shuffled through the other papers. He found the one he was looking for and pulled it from the stack. “Look here, it’s a clipping from a newspaper. It’s about a string of robberies from several years ago. I read it last night and the only thing anyone knew was that one of the men had red hair. I think George was keeping up on the crimes. Tracking him.”

  Em looked again at the picture. “All those years when he would leave, maybe he was really off looking for Alroy. He never said a word about him. Not even once. He wasn’t much of a talker, though, and I wasn’t big on asking him questions. George left often, and I never believed his story about checking traps. What else did you find in the box?”

  “Most of the papers are just legal papers. The properties he has owned and sold. There was his marriage license, the papers from the Aid Society about Alroy. I checked the date. His was from 1862. Other than that, there are a few other newspaper clippings.” He pulled out one other paper. “This one doesn’t seem to have anything to do with the case . . .”

  Em picked it up. “What is it?”

  “I’ll read it to you,” he said, taking it back from her. “The top part says THE CHILDREN’S AID SOCIETY OF NEW YORK. Then here it says that this paper certifies that Em Cooper has been placed in the care of George Oliver. He signed that he would care and provide for you, look after your safety. Things like that. It’s dated 1874.”

  Staring at the paper, she tried to remember him signing it. No memory of the paper came, but other details did. The day was a blur, a whirlwind of emotion. At the time her mind and heart were in Beckford with Lucy. She’d all but given up on a family wanting her, and with Lucy gone, she didn’t care what happened to her. When George came and asked after her, none of it felt real.

  “I suppose he would have filled out the paperwork on me.” Em stared at the letters on the page. “Living here with the Howells, it almost seems like a different life.”

  Caleb took the packet of papers that were hers and set them before her. “I didn’t look in here. I wanted to, but they’re yours.”

  Em took them and held them tight against her chest. “Thank you.”

  “Let’s get reading. Then we can see what’s in there. Hopefully you’re a quick learner. I’ve never been very patient when it comes to a mystery.” His eyes twinkled. Nothing belittling or demeaning. She had been afraid he would make her feel inferior, lesser because of her ignorance.

  For the next hour Caleb went over the sounds the letters made. Em tried to commit it all to memory. She stumbled a few times when he asked her what a letter said. “No, Em. That’s a D, not a B. I told you that a minute ago.”

  Embarrassed but determined, she pressed on. Again she mixed the letters up. “I’m sorry, Caleb. I had hoped to be so good at this.”

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s not you I’m frustrated with. It just seems so unfair that I had years of schooling and you had none. That’s what frustrates me.” He pointed again to the letters. “Try again. I know you can learn it. I guess I’m just eager for you to be able to read.”

  She continued, doing much better now that his voice was calmer. Then he took out a stack of papers from the desk drawer. On the back of one of them, he wrote out the letters of the alphabet. “These are old posters. We don’t need them anymore. When you have time, practice writing the letters on the back. Try and write them like the ones I wrote out. Soon we will be putting them together. And then you’ll be able to write a letter to anyone you choose and read those papers you are holding so carefully.”

  Her eyes jumped to his when he said she would be able to write soon. He must have seen it. The longing she felt must have been visible to him. “I wish you would tell me who you want to write to,” he said.

  She remembered his plea from before that she just answer a question without him having to pry. “I want to write to my sister. I want to read a train ticket and signs and find my way to her. Her name is Lucy.”

  “You have a sister?” Caleb leaned in closer to her.

  “I do. I haven’t seen her in seven years, but I’ve thought of her every day since.” Em felt emotion building within her. “Every day. Every single day.” She fought against the tears that threatened to spill, but a few desperate ones crept from deep inside her. Shaking her head, she battled to regain control. Seven years she had held back these tears. Why did they have to betray her now?

  Caleb came around the desk and knelt beside her. “Cry if you need to. Talk. Yell if it’ll help.” He reached a hand up and, using his calloused thumb, wiped a tear from her cheek. His tender touch only brought more tears.

  Through the storm of emotion, she said, “I . . . I never cry.”

  “You ought to. I know I cried buckets of tears when I heard about my brothers. There’s no shame in it.”

  Sniffling, she said, “We were on the same train. I thought we would be together. That a family would want us both.” Em’s voice grew stronger, less shaky, as she spoke. “There were so many children. We never even stood on a train platform until Beckford. When they finally lined us up for everyone to see they pinned numbers on us and separated us. The little children were at one end and the older ones at the opposite side. Lucy was seven and far down the line from me. She was crying, but even with tears on her face she was perfect. Everyone must have known it and wanted her.”

  Em stood, unable to hold still as she talked about the bitter memory. “People started coming, walking across the stage inspecting us like we were cattle. A big man stood in front of me
. He asked me to open my mouth so he could see my teeth. I wouldn’t do it. My stupid, stubborn pride. It has always plagued me.” Pausing to take a deep breath, she looked at Caleb through her tears. “Some of the women from the Aid Society came up to me, trying to get me to comply. Finally I opened my mouth and let the man look me over. He never really wanted me. He was just having a good time harassing us all. Blasted man finally left the platform—he didn’t take a child with him. He didn’t want me or anyone else.”

  “What happened to Lucy?” Caleb asked as he stood up.

  Em’s hands were in tight fists by her sides and every muscle in her body was tense as she recalled the rest of that fateful day. “I don’t know. She was off the stage and gone by the time the man stopped blocking my view. I ran off the platform looking for her, screaming her name and crying. A couple of the men came and carried me back on the train. I fought them the best I could, but they were too strong. I tried asking after her when we left Beckford. The women just told me that the records were confidential. All I know is she left the train in Beckford. And I have to get there. I have to.” She wasn’t sure how many times she had repeated her need to go. Caleb stood by her, listening to her mourn, waiting until she was ready to say more.

  “For seven years I’ve thought of little other than how I could get there. It’s what I lived for. Having no money, no ability to read, and no idea where I was living kept me from getting there sooner. I would have gone for her. I would have if I could have.” Em braced herself against the back of the wooden chair she had been sitting in. “I wanted to find her. I really did.”

  “I believe you,” he said softly. “It’s not your fault.”

  “I have a job now, and once I’ve earned enough to repay the Howells and can get on a train, I’m going to find her. I thought of writing first, but I don’t know who has her.” With her story told, she let her shoulders stoop forward. The weight of her words pressed against her.