A Peek Inside
Ethan slid off the wagon seat and dropped to the ground. Clutching the flour sack, he surveyed his new home while the stationmaster lifted his sister and his little brothers from the wagon. Fields stretched as far as he could see around the building, but large trees shaded the yard. It seemed a long way to walk from the road to the broad steps that led to the front door of the Home.
The sun was sinking behind the roof, and Ethan’s heart sank with it. But he mustn’t let the others know. They depended on him. So once again he straightened his shoulders and tried to look in charge.
“Take Simon’s hand, Alice,” he told his sister, “and I’ll hold Will.” To the stationmaster he added, “Thank you, sir. We’ll be fine now.”
Beyond the Orphan Train series
Looking for Home
Whistle-Stop West
Prairie Homestead
Across the Border
LOOKING FOR HOME
Published by David C Cook
4050 Lee Vance View
Colorado Springs, CO 80918 U.S.A.
David C Cook Distribution Canada
55 Woodslee Avenue, Paris, Ontario, Canada N3L 3E5
David C Cook U.K., Kingsway Communications
Eastbourne, East Sussex BN23 6NT, England
The graphic circle C logo is a registered trademark of David C Cook.
All rights reserved. Except for brief excerpts for review purposes,
no part of this book may be reproduced or used in any form
without written permission from the publisher.
This story is a work of fiction. All characters and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is coincidental.
All Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible. (Public Domain.)
LCCN 2015952817
ISBN 978-1-4347-0955-4
eISBN 978-1-4347-0229-6
© ١٩٩٣, ٢٠١٦ Arleta Richardson
The Team: Catherine DeVries, Ramona Tucker, Ingrid Beck, Amy Konyndyk, Jon Middel, Nick Lee, Tiffany Thomas, Susan Murdock
Cover Design: DogEared Design, Kirk DouPonce
Cover Photo: Kirk DouPonce and iStockphoto
Second Edition 2016
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
112315
To John and Jennie
With God’s help they made a success
of all that life handed them.
CONTENTS
1 Ethan Takes Charge
2 The Journey to Briarlane
3 The Briars
4 Eugenia Quincy’s Sudden Fancy
5 Ethan Learns the Rules
6 Eugenia Visits the Briars
7 Eugenia Tries Again
8 Will Goes for a Ride
9 Ethan Learns to Trust
10 Yes, Mr. Quincy Gets Involved
11 Eugenia Learns a Hard Lesson
12 Hugh’s Demand
13 Ethan Makes a Surprising Discovery
14 Gridley Picks Up a Stranger
15 Ethan Tells His Story
16 Hugh Makes Things Right
17 A Stranger Visits Briarlane
18 The Cooper Children Begin a New Adventure
Author’s Note
Write, Talk, Imagine
About the Author
Other Books by Arleta Richardson
Chapter One
Ethan Takes Charge
Outside Jefferson, Pennsylvania
May 1907
Beads of sweat stood on Ethan Cooper’s upper lip. It wasn’t long past sunup and was sure hot for May. Keeping a careful hand on the squirming baby, he reached for the flannel that had been his ma’s petticoat. It was an awful lot of cloth, but nothing else was suitable for a diaper. He fastened the bottom of the petticoat with two big pins and then wrapped the rest around the baby several times to cover her.
“Doesn’t look right to me,” said five-year-old Alice, who knelt on the floor nearby.
He glanced down. “You should talk. How will you fasten your stockings to your vest? You put it on backwards.”
“Had to. Can’t reach the buttons if they’re in the back.”
“Stand up and turn around. I’ll fasten it for you. Then I’ve got to dress the boys. Mrs. Kenny’ll be here soon.”
“Are we really going to leave Molly with her?” Alice asked, her brown eyes troubled as she got to her feet. Her gaze lingered on his face for a moment before she turned around.
“We don’t have a choice, Allie,” he said as he helped her with the vest. “The Home won’t take little babies. You heard Russell say that he almost couldn’t get Will in.”
Ethan was glad that Alice had her back to him now. An eight-year-old boy couldn’t let his sister see the tears that came no matter how hard he swallowed.
“Now, put your dress on and brush your hair,” he told her in a kind voice. “I’ll braid it when I finish here.”
As he helped dress Simon and Will, his two little brothers, Ethan reflected on the days that had led up to this morning. Until a few months ago, his life had been pretty ordinary. The Cooper clan—Ma, Pa, and their nine children, with Ethan smack in the middle—had never known anything but the drafty, run-down house on the desolate edge of nowhere, a long walk from the town of Jefferson. Didn’t everyone have burlap stretched over broken windows and cracks a boy could stick his hand through? But it was home, and they were content.
Ethan was old enough to know they wouldn’t have fared even as well as they had, if it weren’t for Mary and Seth Kenny. Since Pa was away from home more than he was there, the family would have been hungry and cold many times had it not been for their kind neighbors. Before Molly was born, Ma used to rock Will in the evening and tell the children about the year she and Pa moved to this house.
“That was before any of you were born,” Ma had said. “The Kennys helped us move in.” She looked around the room and sighed. “It looked worse than this back then. But we were glad to have a home. Still, seems like Pa never got around to fixing things up much.”
“Where’s Pa?” Simon’s voice broke into Ethan’s thoughts.
“I told you. He’s gone to work on a boat.”
“Is he coming back?”
“Probably not,” Ethan replied. “But it doesn’t matter. We won’t be here.”
Simon nodded and submitted to the wet comb going through his hair. Ethan knew the little boy wouldn’t ask about Ma. Simon hadn’t mentioned her since the day he sat under the kitchen table and watched the men carry her out to the cemetery. No one had even thought to look for Simon until late that evening when Rachel, their older sister, had discovered him, asleep under the table, and put him to bed.
“He won’t remember,” she had said. “He’s too young.”
It seemed that she was right. Simon had awakened the next morning and joined the others at the table as usual. He didn’t even look toward the bed where Ma had been lying for so many weeks.
It must be easier to forget when you’re only three, Ethan thought. Just last month, Simon had turned four … without Ma there to celebrate with them.
Ethan hadn’t forgotten. He didn’t say anything about missing Ma, mostly because no one talked about it. But once in a while, the subject came up.
“Why did Jesus take Ma to heaven, Ethan?” Alice asked once.
“Ma was tired, Allie. It’s hard to get any rest when there are nine kids in the house. Remember she read to us from the Bible where Jesus said, ‘Come unto me, all y
e that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest’? So that’s what He did. He gave her rest.”
One part of Ethan was glad Ma wasn’t sick any longer. But a bigger part wished she would come back. He needed help taking care of things.
He didn’t need it bad enough to wish that Pa would come home, though. Ethan glanced at the lard pail that served as Pa’s lunch bucket. How many times had he been ordered to trudge into town to get that bucket filled with beer for Pa? More times than Ethan wanted to remember. In fact, there wasn’t much about Pa that Ethan did want to remember. How disappointed he’d been when Pa refused to allow him to go to Sunday school with the Kennys.
“I don’t want the church folks thinking they have to give their old clothes to my family,” Pa had declared. “We’ll get along on our own.”
Well, that was past. Ethan wouldn’t be going after Pa’s beer again. And he had known for some time that his three older brothers and sister wouldn’t be able to support the family for long. He had heard Russell and the others discussing it.
“What can we do, Russ?” Rachel had asked. “Someone has to look after them better than we’ve been doing. Ethan shouldn’t have to take care of Molly. Simon and Will are more than enough for him to watch. He won’t get to school at all this fall if we leave it like this.”
Russell had nodded and slumped in his chair. “I know. With you working out at the Higgins place, and Walter, Jake, and me finding jobs where we can …” Suddenly Russell looked almost as old as Pa. Then he leaned forward. “I’ve been thinking on it. I heard about this county asylum over at Briarlane. Mr. Peat’s hired man used to live there. They take orphans until they’re sixteen. We could send the little ones. Even if Pa is still living, we’re not going to get any help from him.”
“You going to send all of ’em?” Walter asked.
“Not the baby. They won’t take infants. Just Alice, Simon, Will, and Ethan. Mrs. Kenny says she’ll keep Molly.”
“I’m big,” Ethan had protested. “I can look after myself when you’re gone. And I’ll go to school every day. Do I have to leave?”
Rachel hugged him. “You’re only eight, honey. You need someone to cook for you and take care of your clothes. Besides, the little boys need you. What would they do in a strange home with no big brother? They’re too young to understand not being with family.”
Ethan reluctantly agreed to leave the only home he had ever known.
Now the morning of departure had come. There wasn’t much to get ready. Rachel wrote a letter and tucked it into a flour sack. Then she packed the few garments they wouldn’t be wearing, and the belongings of all four children barely made a bulge in the flour sack.
Besides the clothes, each of them had a personal treasure. Alice was taking the rag doll that Ma had made for her. Simon had a whistle Jake offered him as a going-away gift. Will wouldn’t part from his “pony”—a cherry-wood branch with a leather strap nailed to it. As for Ethan, his treasure was known only to himself. It was an old watch case he had found in the field. Inside he had placed a picture of Ma.
Just that instant Ethan was startled out of his memories by Will’s hollering. The little boy’s ear had been scrubbed enough. Quickly Ethan helped Will put on long black stockings, short pants, and cotton shirt and then plopped his brother on the bed beside the baby.
The sun was higher now. He’d have to hurry and get himself ready to leave. Mrs. Kenny would arrive any minute to walk into town with them and meet the streetcar that would take them to the county seat. From there they would be on their own.
Mrs. Kenny appeared as Ethan finished combing his hair. She was cheerful as she wrapped Molly in her shawl and grasped Alice by the hand.
“Have your trolley money, do you?” she asked.
Ethan dug into his pocket and pulled out the three nickels Russ had given him for the fare. “Rachel says it won’t cost anything for Will if I hold him. He’s still two. He won’t be three until next month.”
“Hmmph,” Mrs. Kenny snorted. “They aren’t losing any money. All four of you would fit on one seat. But they’ll fatten you up at the Home. Hear tell they have a farm and a big garden.”
Ethan had decided not to think about Briarlane any sooner than he had to, but Simon heard the word farm.
“Cows? Will they have cows and horses?” the just-turned-four-year-old asked.
“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Mrs. Kenny answered. “Probably pigs, chickens, and whatever else they run on those places. You’ll have lots to eat and maybe learn to farm, too. Well, are we ready?”
The younger children followed her out the door, but Ethan stood for a moment looking around the familiar room. In spite of Rachel’s assurance that they would be back home as soon as things were better, he had a feeling he wouldn’t see this house again. A lump formed in his throat. He shut the door swiftly and then dashed after the others.
The walk to town would take longer than usual, because Will had to be carried part of the way. They weren’t out of sight of the house when Alice stopped in the road.
“Lolly!” she cried.
Mrs. Kenny stopped too. “What’s the matter? What’s a lolly?”
“Her doll,” Ethan answered. “Wait here. I’ll run back and get it.”
The little boys flopped on the ground, and Mrs. Kenny leaned against a fence post.
“We’ll never make it to town at this rate,” she said. “Don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner. Ethan, as long as you’re going back, get my boys’ wagon to carry these young ones.”
The going was a little faster after that. Still, it was almost two hours later when Mrs. Kenny and the children stood in front of the hotel where the streetcar would pick them up. The sky had darkened, and heavy clouds promised a shower.
If only Rachel and the boys were here to see us off, Ethan thought. But of course they had to work.
Ethan straightened his shoulders and tried to look like an older brother who could take charge. He was responsible now.
Chapter Two
The Journey to Briarlane
Ethan watched the rain trickle down the streetcar window and shifted as much as he could without waking Will. In the seat across from him, Alice and Simon were sleeping. Ethan’s eyes were heavy, but he dared not close them. He had promised to keep watch over the children, and if he failed, they might be put off the trolley.
The motorman hadn’t been pleased when the conductor lifted the three little ones up the trolley steps. He eyed them suspiciously when Ethan held out the three nickels.
“What’s this?” he said. “Where’s your folks?”
“There’s just us,” Ethan replied. “I’ve got money for our fare.”
The man surveyed the group. Will clutched his stick horse. Simon stood wide-eyed and silent. Alice hugged her doll tightly, keeping one hand on Ethan’s jacket. For a long minute the motorman looked from one to the other of the children, stopping at Ethan, who held the flour sack and Will together under one arm.
“You in charge?” he challenged Ethan.
“Yes, sir.”
“Where are you going?”
“To Briarlane.”
The man scowled. “Hmm. That’s the end of the line. We won’t get there for a couple of hours.” He scanned the silent group. “You be sure they don’t run around the aisles, or I’ll have to put you off. And don’t you be blowing that whistle.” He jabbed a thumb at Simon’s treasure.
“He won’t, sir,” Ethan reassured the man. “We’ll all be quiet and sit still.”
“See that you do. And stay up here at the front where I can keep an eye on you.”
The nickels were given up, and Ethan shepherded his sister and brothers to the first vacant seats that faced each other.
“Ethan, can I sit by the window?” Alice whispered, sounding anxious.
Ethan nodded. “You can tak
e turns. When we stop, trade places with Simon. That way you can both see out.”
The plan worked well. Since no one dared risk the motorman’s wrath, there was no bickering or crying. The swaying of the car, the rumble of the wheels, and the splashing of the rain soon lulled the little ones to sleep. In a very short time, Ethan’s eyes closed too, and he slept as the trolley rattled through the villages and fields toward the county seat.
A hand shook Ethan’s shoulder, and a voice brought him upright in his seat.
“Wake up, boy. This here’s the end of the line.” The motorman stood in the aisle looking down at the children. “Someone supposed to meet you young ’uns here?”
It took a moment for Ethan’s mind to clear. Then he shook his head. “No, sir. We don’t know anybody in this town.”
The man stared at him. “Tarnation!” he exploded. “What did you come for, then?” He stared out the window at the driving rain and then down at his watch. “I got to get back on my run, but I can’t put you out on the road in this drencher. You’d all drown in five minutes.” He looked at the conductor standing in the doorway and gave a helpless shrug. “Now what do we do?”
“Better take ’em into the waiting room, Del. Maybe someone will be along to pick them up. I’ll take the little gal if you can grab the boys, and we’ll make a run for it.”
Before he had time to think it through, Ethan was following the conductor and the motorman through the downpour toward the small station. The flour sack slapped against his legs as he ran, and water splashed into his boots.
In spite of their best efforts, four bedraggled and dripping children stood in the center of a room lined with benches. Ethan peered around cautiously as the men shook the raindrops from their slickers. There seemed to be only two other people present—a man behind a window and a woman sitting on a bench.
The man at the window spoke. “Who you got there, Del? Did you fish them out of the river?” He chuckled at his own question.
Del apparently failed to see the humor of it. He glared at the stationmaster as he smacked his wet hat against the wall. “They’ll be fishing you out of the river if you ain’t careful,” he muttered. “I picked these here kids up at Jefferson, and I don’t know where they go.”
Looking for Home Page 1
