Looking for Home

by Arleta Richardson

  “That looks a little like a school,” Bert said, “but there ain’t no desks to write on.”

  “Maybe it’s a church where the preacher sits down,” Ethan suggested. “But it’s sure a lot bigger than our church.”

  While they stood discussing the possibilities, a smiling woman swung the door open and stepped into the hallway. “Good morning, boys,” she said. “Are you looking for someone?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Ethan answered promptly. “My brother.”

  “Does he work here?”

  “Oh no, ma’am. He’s only two years old. He’s lost.”

  “Two years old!” the lady exclaimed. “What makes you think he might be here? How long has he been lost? Where are your parents?”

  The questions came so fast that Ethan was unable to answer. He just stood with his mouth open.

  Bert tried, however. “He was lost yesterday. We thought maybe—”

  At that moment an impressive-looking man walked out of the big room and stopped to gaze at the dusty, barefoot boys.

  “Well, well. What have we here, Miss Clark? Are these friends of yours?”

  “I’ve just met them, sir,” Miss Clark replied. “They tell me they’ve lost a little boy.”

  “Is that so?” The man fixed his gaze on Ethan and Bert. “Perhaps you’d better tell me about it.”

  He led the way to an office, and the boys were soon perched uneasily on the edge of chairs in a big room. The man settled behind his desk.

  “Now. Let’s hear what’s going on. Suppose you tell me first where you live.”

  “At the Briars, sir,” Bert answered.

  The man blinked. “Briarlane Children’s Home?” he asked, looking surprised. “And whom did you say you’ve lost?”

  “My little brother, sir,” Ethan said. “Yesterday.”

  “And what is your name?”

  “Ethan. Ethan Cooper.”

  The man frowned. “Mr. Lehman knows about this, does he?”

  “Yes, sir. He’s looking for Will now. We thought maybe—” Ethan stopped. He’d better not tell this man their suspicions. They didn’t even know who he was. They could get into trouble.

  “Shall I see that the boys get back to the Home, Judge Quincy?” Miss Clark asked.

  Judge Quincy! Bert and Ethan looked at each other in dismay. That was the name of the lady they were trying to find. If the matron of her house told the judge that they had been there, they were already in trouble.

  “No, Miss Clark,” Mr. Quincy replied. “Thank you anyway. I believe I’ll take them out myself. I’d better look into this matter.”

  Ethan’s shoulders drooped. Would his problems never end? Mr. Lehman would have to know what they had done without permission, and they were no closer to finding Will than before.

  Slowly the boys followed Mr. Quincy out of the building. It would be a long walk back to the Home.

  Then, to their happy surprise, they found they weren’t going to walk. At the rear of the building stood a limousine.

  Bert happily exclaimed, “That’s the big car, Ethan! The one she came in.”

  Mr. Quincy appeared perplexed. “You’ve seen this car before?”

  “Oh yes, sir,” Bert replied eagerly. “The lady came with this man. Twice.” He pointed at the attendant, who looked neither right nor left.

  Patterson considered this news as he ushered the two boys into the car. Why had Eugenia—it had to be Eugenia—gone to the Home? Why hadn’t she mentioned it to him? Gridley had said nothing about such a trip. But then, Patterson thought, he wouldn’t expect the man to. Eugenia had access to the car whenever she wished.

  He turned his attention to the excited boys.

  “We never rode in a fine car like this before!” Bert exclaimed.

  “We never rode in no car before,” Ethan corrected him.

  “Wait till the guys see us come home like this!”

  Then the boys exchanged a glance and both sat back against the seat with sober expressions.

  Patterson noticed the sudden quiet and hurried to reassure them. “It’s all right, boys. If you’re worried about getting into trouble for coming into town, I’ll talk to Mr. Lehman when we get there. Perhaps you’d better tell me what you know. When did you say you last saw your little brother?”

  “Yesterday. He was there at breakfast. Then we went to paint the henhouses—” Ethan choked.

  Bert took up the story. “Then when we got back, Matron said she thought Will was with us. But we hadn’t seen him.”

  Patterson nodded. “So you thought he might have wandered off toward town.”

  “No, we thought that Mis—” Bert stopped at a glare from Ethan. “That maybe someone took him away, and we’d see him there,” Bert finished.

  “Chances are he’s back by now,” Patterson encouraged them. “If not, we’ll soon find him, I’m sure.”

  The car stopped in front of the orphanage gate, and the boys tumbled out. They ran toward the barn to find Otis.

  Patterson Quincy walked slowly toward the Home. Several things about this situation disturbed him. How long ago had Eugenia mentioned wanting a child from here? A couple of weeks, he thought. And if he recalled correctly, it was a young Cooper boy that she had specified.

  But that was ridiculous. He had convinced her there was no possibility of such a thing, and nothing more had been said about it. That it might be this child who was missing was coincidental. If Eugenia had visited here—twice—there would be an obvious explanation. George Lehman would straighten it out.

  Patterson arrived at the door and was admitted into the dim, cool hall. George Lehman soon seated his guest in front of the desk.

  Patterson studied the director. “You look worried, George. Anything wrong?”

  “Yes, there is. Quite wrong. The youngest of the new family of children has been missing since sometime yesterday. We’ve carefully searched the house area, the woods, and even the river. There is no sign of him. I sent one of the older boys into town a while ago with a message for you. I don’t know how he could have gotten there already.”

  “Probably hasn’t.” Patterson then told Mr. Lehman about the two small boys who had delivered the message by accident. “They didn’t know who I was. They just wandered into the courthouse. I told them I’d square things with you so they wouldn’t be in trouble.”

  Mr. Lehman smiled slightly. “They won’t be punished. I know how worried Ethan has been. The boy is just like a father to the other three, and he’s not much older than they are. In fact—”

  Mr. Lehman looked distressed.

  “Yes?”

  “I suspect that the father may have come by and taken the baby with him. We’ve not been able to locate the man and have no idea what part of the country he may be in. As I explained to your wife, we’ve done our best to find him so that the children may be released for adoption or returned home. So far we’ve had no success.”

  “Mmm, yes.” Patterson was troubled. “You say you’ve talked to Eugenia? Was that about this child who is missing?”

  “Why, yes. I thought you knew about it. I didn’t mean to divulge a confidence.”

  “No, no. That’s all right. Eugenia simply forgot to mention it to me. She’ll no doubt bring it up when she returns.”

  “Mrs. Quincy is out of town?” George Lehman inquired.

  “Yes. She has gone to our summer home on the lake this week. Left yesterday.”

  Suddenly a dreadful possibility clicked into place in Patterson’s mind, and he rose abruptly. Mr. Lehman stood too, looking startled.

  “You’ve done what you can do,” Patterson told him. “I’ll start someone working to locate the boy immediately. Don’t worry. We’ll find him.” His gaze swept over the director’s desk. “We’ll get a telephone out here right away. Can’t have people running bet
ween here and my office when you need me. I’ll be in touch with you soon.”

  Very soon, he thought grimly as he headed for the car, if what he strongly suspected turned out to be fact. Eugenia couldn’t have picked up that boy and taken him with her, could she? As he settled into the car behind a silent Gridley, he berated himself for not being more alert.

  “Let’s go home, Gridley. We have a trip ahead of us this afternoon.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Eugenia Learns a Hard Lesson

  On the spacious veranda of the summer house, Eugenia Quincy lay on a chaise lounge and looked out over the lake. On her first day of what was to be a change of scenery, she was tired. She watched Clara and the small boy who walked beside her along the water’s edge.

  After thinking over the events of yesterday, Eugenia wondered uneasily if she had done the right thing. Very soon after they had reached the open road, Will had fallen asleep on Clara’s lap. Eugenia was pleased.

  “He’s going to be very easy to take care of, Clara,” she’d said happily. “I guess children that age sleep a lot. Have you ever had charge of a baby like him?”

  “No, mum,” the girl had replied. “I was the youngest in my family.” She hesitated and then inquired, “What do we feed him?”

  Eugenia hadn’t considered that. “Why, I suppose whatever we eat. I’m sure Greta has put in enough for all of us. He can’t eat a whole lot.”

  This, she soon discovered, was an understatement. Will wouldn’t eat anything. Shortly after their arrival at the lake, Will had awakened. Seeing only strange faces, he started to cry. “Allie. Will wants Allie,” he had sobbed.

  “What’s Allie?” Eugenia asked anxiously. “Is it something to eat? Give him a cookie, Clara.”

  The cookie was offered, but Will pushed it away. “Ethan? Allie?” He looked around frantically, and huge tears ran down his face.

  “For goodness’ sake, Clara, give him whatever he wants. We can’t have that wailing all afternoon,” Eugenia had complained.

  “I don’t know what he wants,” Clara replied, desperation creeping into her voice. “He probably misses his family. Oh, mum! We shouldn’t have taken him away from the Home.”

  “Well, we did, so we’ll have to make the best of it. Find something to cheer him up. He’s making me nervous.”

  Clara had done her best, Eugenia was forced to admit, but Will wasn’t happy. Throughout the afternoon he continued to cry, adding “Simon” to his list of grievances. When he had finally sobbed himself to sleep again, Eugenia was relieved.

  “Well, that’s over. Do they all do that, Clara?”

  “I don’t know. But they all need clean clothes, and we don’t have any of those.”

  “Oh, dear.” Eugenia flopped down on the sofa and put her hand on her forehead. “I’m getting a terrible headache, Clara. You’ll have to take care of it. Go and get some.” Without opening her eyes, she waved her hand feebly at the girl. When Clara didn’t move, she sat up in surprise. “Well, what are you waiting for? You’d better go before he wakes up again. You certainly don’t expect me to do anything with him.”

  “I never bought a little boy’s clothes before. And I got no way to get to the village. We can’t both go unless we take him with us.”

  “Oh, bother,” Eugenia grumbled. “Why didn’t you think of that before we got here?”

  Clara remained silent, as if knowing that whatever she answered, it was sure to be the wrong thing.

  “I suppose I’ll have to go. There’s probably not a thing in that village for a child to wear.”

  Eugenia flung herself out of the house, muttering about inefficient help, and headed for the little store closest to the lake. She returned some time later bearing a shirt and short pants. They were obviously several sizes too large, but she threw them down on the table.

  “There. When he wakes up, you can put them on him.”

  Clara stared at the outfit. “Where’s the underwear?”

  “Underwear?”

  “Yes, mum. He needs more underpants and an undershirt. The ones he’s wearing are … sort of wet.”

  Eugenia was horrified. “Didn’t you take him to the bathroom?”

  “He’s been asleep. Did you want me to wake him up?”

  “No, no. Of course not. He’ll start howling again.” She sighed irritably. “I’ll have to go back. I certainly wish you could think of things like that before I run myself to a frazzle. You don’t have anything else to do.”

  Clara ducked her head. “Yes, mum. I’m sorry, mum.”

  “You should be. I brought you along to be of some help.”

  The rest of the afternoon—and the night—hadn’t gone any better. Several times Eugenia heard the boy cry. Then she was forced to listen to the creak of the rocking chair until he fell asleep again in Clara’s arms.

  No wonder Eugenia was so fatigued this morning.

  Thankfully, though, aside from a few hiccuping sobs, Will hadn’t cried since Clara had gotten him up. But he still refused to eat.

  Eugenia moved restlessly on the chaise lounge. This wasn’t the way she had pictured her advent into motherhood.

  The boy regarded her solemnly, with a small thumb firmly planted in his mouth. Although he had stopped asking for “Allie” or “Ethan,” his big eyes held disapproval. It was most disconcerting.

  “What else could he possibly want?” she demanded of Clara. “He won’t eat, and he’s only taken a bit of milk. Don’t children eat three meals a day like everyone else?”

  “Yes, mum. I think so,” Clara replied. Her eyes were heavy with lack of sleep, and she was bouncing Will on her knee in an attempt to entertain him. “Maybe he’s homesick. Maybe we should take him back to the Briars.”

  Eugenia considered this and shook her head. “We can’t do that. Mr. Quincy would wonder why we returned so soon.” She looked sharply at Clara. “I don’t want him to know about this—not yet, at any rate.”

  “Yes, mum.”

  “So take the boy down to the lake for a walk. Take a spoon to dig in the sand—or something.”

  “Yes, mum.”

  It was going to be a long few days ahead. She couldn’t focus her attention on reading or handwork when she had to be concerned about the child.

  Eugenia didn’t have long to indulge in self-pity. A crunch on the driveway announced the arrival of a familiar limousine, and she sprang to her feet.

  The door opened, and Gridley stepped out. “Good afternoon, madam.”

  “Good afternoon. What—?” she blustered.

  Gridley held open the rear door.

  Patterson emerged and walked toward the veranda where Eugenia was sitting. “Good day, my dear.”

  “Patterson! What are you doing here? I thought you were too busy to get away!” Eugenia did her best to hide her dismay.

  “I found that I had a short time free. I shall have to return this evening, but I wanted to check and see that all was well here.” He ascended the stairs deliberately and sank into a chair beside the chaise lounge. “Lie down again, Eugenia. You look exhausted.”

  Patterson looked around with seeming indifference. The trees rustled slightly in the breeze, and the lake glistened in the afternoon sun. He watched the water for a moment in silence.

  “Isn’t that Clara walking along the shore?’’ he finally asked.

  “Why, yes, I believe it is.”

  “And who does she have with her? It looks like a small boy.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Eugenia?”

  She had thought to face him defiantly, but when she raised her eyes to meet his, she crumpled at his stern expression.

  “Eugenia, why on earth did you bring that boy up here without letting anyone know you had him? Don’t you realize that you could be prosecuted for kidnapping?”

  “Ki
dnapping!” Eugenia was horrified. “I didn’t kidnap him! I just borrowed him for a few days. I was going to take him back.”

  “Didn’t you think that the people at the Home would be looking for him ‘for a few days’?”

  She waved an arm. “Oh, Patterson, he’s an orphan. They’ve got more of those than they need now. And I did ask Mr. Lehman if I might take him—to get acquainted, you know.”

  “And what did Mr. Lehman say?”

  Eugenia tossed her head in disdain. “Oh, he said he thought the boy was too little to be away from people he knew, but I didn’t agree with him. The child is too young to know the difference.” But even as she said the words, Eugenia recalled the boy’s tearstained face and the fact that he hadn’t eaten since their arrival.

  “Nevertheless,” Patterson said, “he must be returned as quickly as possible. The people at the Home, and especially his older brother, are frantic over his disappearance.”

  “Oh, very well. Send Gridley down to the lake to get him, and you can take him back with you.”

  “No, Eugenia. I will not take him and make explanations for you. This is your responsibility, and I suggest that you undertake it immediately.” He rose and started for the car.

  “Patterson!” Eugenia gasped, following him. “I can’t do that! What will I say? Besides, I’m quite sure that Mr. Lehman dislikes me.”

  “Are you, my dear? I wonder why.”

  Gridley closed the door of the limousine, and Patterson leaned out the window to speak to his wife. “If I were you, I would start at once. I’ll see you at dinner.”

  Eugenia watched as the car turned onto the road leading back to Briarlane. She was furious at Patterson for putting her in this position. She was angry with George Lehman for refusing her permission to take the child when she requested it. If he hadn’t been so stubborn, this never would have happened.

  She stormed down to the edge of the lawn to summon Clara. If the girl had seen the car, she would know that Eugenia had been ordered home. How humiliating this was!