Together Forever

by Jody Hedlund

  Even his admonishment for the children to play close to the church was a change from the carefree, relaxed attitude he’d had the rest of the trip. Maybe the temporary loss had frightened him and made him take his responsibility with the children more seriously.

  He paused before the door, his hand on the handle, and glanced at her. “If the boys give you any trouble, don’t hesitate to interrupt me.” Then he turned and slipped inside the church building.

  Marianne wondered if Drew was having second thoughts about bringing the older boys on the trip. As much as she tried to keep the children busy and contained within the vicinity of the churchyard, they wandered off anyway, especially as the long morning dragged by. By the time the committee exited the building, it was noon and the children’s growling stomachs had brought them straggling back.

  She wasn’t surprised when Liverpool and Ned didn’t return. Several of the other younger boys hadn’t come back either, apparently having found a “swimming hole” somewhere. Drew was adamant with the children when they’d been in Chicago and playing along the canal that they were never to go swimming. At the news, Drew hurried off in the direction of the pond, his face tight with worry.

  While Drew was rounding up the stray orphans, the children had lunch at the tavern. Afterward, Marianne helped the younger ones comb their hair and make themselves presentable before walking back to the church. Drew returned with some of the boys in time for the reception, which was nearly identical to the one yesterday in Benton, with the pastor giving a short sermon, followed by the children singing “Amazing Grace.”

  The difference today was that Marianne felt sick to her stomach because she knew exactly what was going to happen, and she dreaded it. She dreaded the fear on the children’s faces, the worry about what their new lives would be like, and whether the families who took them in would love them. And she dreaded the tears some of the children would shed as they were led away to strange places.

  Her thoughts kept returning to Dorothea. Her heart ached at the image of the sweet girl possibly huddled in a corner of her new home, terrified, lonely, and confused. No doubt she’d sobbed inconsolably. Marianne prayed for Elizabeth Garner not to lose patience, that she’d be sensitive to all Dorothea had gone through in her short life.

  “Have you seen Liverpool or Ned yet?” Drew asked under his breath as the families rose from the pews and moved to the front to meet the children.

  She shook her head.

  His shoulders sagged. He’d had such high hopes for helping the boys. He saw the good in them that so many people missed and was optimistic about their futures when so many others would have already given up hope.

  He nodded and handed her the black record book. She let out a heavy sigh, knowing now what her job entailed. Even though she didn’t like it any better today than she had yesterday, she’d do her best to record as much about the children and their new families as she could.

  Perhaps today she’d find a way to hang on to the book a little longer so she could search through it more thoroughly and look for information that might lead her to Sophie or Olivia or Nicholas.

  Starting today, and every day hereafter, she had to remember why she’d joined on as an agent with the Children’s Aid Society. Most certainly not to fall in love with the children and then have her heart broken. No. She was on a mission to find her sister. And so far she’d made no progress in discovering anything about Sophie. Since this was to be her first and last placing trip, she couldn’t waste any more time. She had to focus on what really mattered.

  When the door opened and Liverpool stepped into the sanctuary, Drew breathed a silent prayer of thankfulness. As rude and difficult as the boy could be, Drew knew it was only a front. He suspected Liverpool had erected many barriers over the years that masked all the hurts and disappointments he’d experienced.

  Drew hoped to get past the barriers during this trip, or at the very least to begin tearing them down. But apparently that wasn’t going to happen on his shift. He could only conclude God had someone else in mind for that job.

  Drew lifted another prayer heavenward that God would bring the right family to Liverpool, if not here in Mayfield, then in the next town.

  “Where’s Ned?” Drew asked as Liverpool brushed past him.

  “Gone.”

  “Gone where?”

  “He decided he had enough of farm life and took off.”

  Drew felt his heart drop. “Do you know where he went?”

  Liverpool shrugged. “Don’t know and don’t care.”

  For a moment, Drew considered running over to the train depot and checking for Ned there. Maybe he could stop the boy before he snuck aboard the train.

  He let his shoulders sag. The truth was, if Ned wanted to leave, there wasn’t much Drew could say or do to stop him. Like most street boys, he was an expert at hiding and avoiding authority. If he didn’t want to be found, Drew wouldn’t be able to track him down no matter how hard he tried.

  Drew tried to be grateful that at least Liverpool had stayed. It was strange, though. He would have guessed that if either of the boys planned to strike out on his own, Liverpool would have been the one to do it, not Ned. Ned had always been more malleable, the one Drew thought would eventually come around, and maybe even begin to trust God.

  He was under no illusion that boys like Ned and Liverpool would easily find their way to accepting the Heavenly Father who loved them, especially after having earthly fathers who were drunkards and had beaten and ill-treated them.

  Only last week, Drew had spoken with Brace about the boys, and the man’s response still lingered in his head: “I suppose it is very hard for a poor boy to believe at all times that God loves him. Half-clothed, cold and hungry, sleeping in boxes, not knowing where he’ll get his next meal, and utterly without friends, he can hardly imagine that there is someone close by who truly cares for him. And yet that is just the message we need to give—that God loves him.”

  Drew prayed for each of the older boys every morning and night. He firmly believed no one was too far beyond the reach of God’s love. Perhaps it would take more time and stretching to grab hold of these boys, but Drew had never been one to relinquish a challenge.

  As Liverpool sauntered to the front, the young man shot Peter and George a narrowed look. The two brothers were standing at the end of the line, still alone, still unclaimed. At the sight of Liverpool, the two had turned pale and their eyes widened with fright. Peter reached for George’s hand and pulled the boy closer.

  Liverpool smirked at the younger boys and walked to the opposite side of the line where the rest of the older children stood.

  “Please, God,” Drew muttered. “Help that boy.”

  When a farmer about as tall as the church spire ambled up to Liverpool, Drew started to pray in earnest. Thankfully, the farmer seemed the quiet sort. He looked Liverpool up and down and wasn’t daunted by the sullenness in the boy’s expression.

  “You wantin’ to do farm work?” the man asked.

  “Yep. I suppose so.”

  “You a hard worker?”

  “Can be if I want.”

  “Good.”

  Drew exchanged introductions with the tall man, Mr. Turner, and shook his hand. “I think you’ll appreciate having Liverpool’s help. He’s energetic and bright.” Drew saw no reason to point out Liverpool’s negative qualities—although there were more than a few. The boy would have a greater chance of success with the Turners if he started with his slate wiped clean.

  “Got myself two grown men already,” Mr. Turner said, “but I can always use another hand.”

  Liverpool scrutinized Mr. Turner as if picking him apart bone by bone. The farmer seemed harmless enough. He was likely a steady, hardworking fellow whose farm had prospered over the past few years, becoming too big to keep up with on his own.

  “What do you think, Liverpool?” Drew asked.

  Mr. Turner grunted but thankfully didn’t make any comments about the boy’s nam
e as most people were apt to do when they first heard it. Apparently, Liverpool was waiting for the comment as well, and when it wasn’t forthcoming, the boy nodded. “All right, mister. I’ll come work for you.”

  Again the farmer snorted, perhaps humored by the irony that the boy thought he was picking his own home rather than the other way around. Drew wasn’t so sure. Either way, he offered Mr. Turner another handshake. “Thank you, sir. And God bless you for your willingness to offer Liverpool a new start to his life.”

  Marianne crouched behind a shrub and stifled her laughter as one of the children found Drew and began chasing him. She’d never played the game of hide-and-seek when she was younger. Her sewing for her uncle in the sweatshop had taken up most of her time, leaving her too exhausted to do much in her free time. However, over the past week of their trip, she’d learned and played more games than she had in her entire life.

  Drew sprinted across the field toward the schoolhouse, the other children cheering him on. There were only six orphans left. After the meeting yesterday, eight of the children had remained. Then today following the church service, an older couple, a dairy farmer and his wife, had agreed to take Peter and George.

  Marianne was happy the brothers could stay together, yet she hadn’t been able to say good-bye since she had to stay back at the inn and miss church. One of the girls had complained of not feeling well enough to get out of bed.

  The young girl in question seemed well enough now—running around with everyone else. Marianne couldn’t keep from wondering if she’d come up with an excuse so she didn’t have to return to the church and face the people who’d rejected her.

  Tomorrow they were leaving for the last stop of their placing out, Dresden, which lay south of Mayfield along the Illinois Central Railroad. Drew seemed confident they would be able to find homes for the rest of the children there. And so for now, Marianne tried to put aside her concerns and sorrows and enjoy the beauty of the summer afternoon. She was taking a lesson from Drew. If he could so easily let go of his worries and enjoy life, then she ought to as well.

  Drew made a show of tripping, allowing his opponent to catch up and tag him. As he congratulated the child, Marianne hopped out of her hiding spot.

  “I won!” Marianne shouted, doing a little victory dance as she’d seen the children do and earning their laughter. “I guess I’m destined to beat Mr. Brady,” she said, skipping across the schoolyard toward Drew. He’d begun working the pump handle up and down for one of the children to get a drink of water. “Last night I proved I was better at spitting watermelon seeds and playing checkers.” She smiled at him in pretend innocence. “And now it looks like I’m also better at hiding than you.”

  “Oh, you think so,” he said with a grin. “When I really put my mind to it, you wouldn’t be able to find me.”

  “Prove it.”

  He let go of the pump handle and straightened. “Is that a challenge, Miss Neumann?” His eyes glittered with that irresistible sparkle that came whenever he was excited. She’d realized he wasn’t the type who could back down from a challenge. He thrived on them, thrived on being impulsive, thrived on excitement.

  And for a reason she couldn’t explain, she loved to bait him. She supposed some might call it flirting. But she liked to think she was only having fun while keeping the children entertained.

  True to his word, Drew hid himself so well that Marianne and the children called for him at the top of their voices as they scoured the school and church grounds. Some of the orphans raced around the train depot while two others checked behind the Mayfield Inn. The town was quiet on the Sunday afternoon, the businesses closed to observe the Lord’s Day, so the children’s laughter seemed even louder than normal.

  At the sway of a shed door behind the church, Marianne veered toward the wooden shack. Even though one of the orphans had already checked inside, Marianne’s pulse sped in anticipation. Without any wind, the door wouldn’t have moved unless someone bumped it, someone big and bulky, someone who would get cramped in the tight space.

  Slowly she opened the door. At first glance in the dark, the shed appeared to be full of crates and lawn supplies. But a closer look showed a pair of black leather men’s oxfords at the edge of a piece of canvas.

  Drew.

  He had to be hot by now. Maybe she ought to make him wait just a little while longer. Inwardly grinning, she made a show of banging a rake and rattling a crate. “Nope. I guess he’s not in here.”

  She was starting to back out when Drew’s hand shot out, captured her arm, and dragged her all the way inside. She laughed but didn’t fight him.

  “Just for that, I’m trapping you in here with me,” he said, pushing aside the canvas and stepping out from his hiding place. There was barely enough room for one person and certainly not for two, and she found herself almost pressed against him.

  With the door still halfway open, the light revealed his handsome face flushed from the heat. His grin brought out the dimple in his chin and the playfulness in his eyes. As with the first time she’d seen him, she was aware of how his perfect smile could knock a girl from her feet, how he’d made a regular practice of knocking her from her feet this past week.

  A strand of his sandy blond hair stuck to his forehead. Without thinking, she reached up, peeled it loose, and combed it back.

  At her touch, he sucked in a breath and seemed to stop breathing altogether as though waiting for her to touch him again. The mirth in his eyes dissipated, replaced by something that made her stomach flip.

  He didn’t look at her lips, and she tried not to look at his. But suddenly she couldn’t think of anything but kissing him.

  “You ragamuffins settle down!” came a man’s voice in the distance.

  Drew’s attention immediately shifted to the door and beyond. In an instant they both stumbled out of the shed. She hoped none of the children noticed that they’d been inside at the same time.

  “Uh-oh,” Drew said, peering across the street toward the train depot. “Looks like we’ve got trouble.”

  Marianne followed his gaze to a short, stout man with a long handlebar mustache and an even longer revolver. He caressed the ivory handle over and over like it was a pet puppy. He wore a shiny badge on his coat that announced his status as sheriff, although his scowl and sharp words seemed to announce it even more forcefully.

  At the sight of Drew, the sheriff shifted his attention away from the children. “Mr. Brady?”

  “That’s right. I’m Andrew Brady.”

  “You get your orphans under control or I’m locking them up for the night.”

  “Now, Sheriff,” Drew said in his usual unruffled tone, “we’re just enjoying a few games on this beautiful summer day. You can’t fault us for that, can you?”

  “They’re causing a ruckus and disturbing the peace.”

  Drew motioned for the children to gather near him. With fear on their faces, they rushed to comply. Marianne had no doubt that their experience with the New York City police was less than pleasant.

  “There are plenty of us here in Mayfield who don’t want you bringing this street scum to our peaceful town,” the sheriff said, continuing to stroke his pistol. “We don’t want them in our schools, tainting our kids, and running on our streets causing problems.”

  Marianne could see Drew’s shoulders stiffen at the insult, but he nodded amiably at the sheriff. “I’m sure they won’t be causing any problems, Sheriff. Give them a chance. They’re all good kids in need of a loving and stable environment.”

  “If’n I wanted to give them a chance, I would have stayed in the big city. As it is, most folk here came west to get away from the garbage. And we don’t like you bringing it here and stinking up our town.”

  The sheriff’s statements were so shocking and offensive, they rendered Marianne speechless. How many people in Mayfield felt the same way the sheriff did? Marianne wasn’t naïve enough to believe everyone supported Reverend Brace’s Emigration Plan. But she’d ne
ver heard anyone speak so forcefully against it.

  She reached for the hand of the nearest orphan, little redheaded Jethro, and wished he hadn’t heard the sheriff’s words. But as soon as she squeezed his hand, she realized he’d likely heard worse, and she wondered if there would ever come a day when he wouldn’t have to face such discrimination.

  Chapter 13

  “Why doesn’t anyone want me?” The child’s voice at Marianne’s side tugged her out of a sleepy daze brought on by the rocking of the train and the now-familiar clacking of the wheels against the rails. After nearly two weeks of traveling by train and staying in hotels along the Illinois Central, she was more exhausted than she’d realized.

  “What did you say?” She blinked the sleep out of her eyes and stifled a yawn.

  “I’m not good enough for anybody,” Jethro said, his voice laden with anguish.

  Marianne sat up and brushed a hand over the boy’s freckled cheek, feeling the dampness of his tears. When he’d finally stopped talking an hour ago, she thought he’d fallen asleep. The silence had been a blessed relief after the boy’s constant chatter.

  On the bench across from them, Drew was sprawled out, his head on one end of the bench, resting on the suit coat he’d bunched up into a pillow. His legs dangled over the other side. He’d angled his hat over his face, shielding his slumbering face. The even rise and fall of his chest told Marianne he was still asleep, as he had been most of the day.

  After several days in Dresden placing the last of the orphans, and Drew visiting the doctor to get the stitches in his arm removed, they’d departed on the first train that morning. Originally, Drew had made arrangements for them to stay in Dresden for another week before they started back along their route to do follow-up visits with the children they’d placed. But he’d easily agreed to her request to travel to Quincy for a few days instead.

  They were less than a day’s ride from the Illinois town her brother-in-law Thornton Quincy had developed last year. The town was still under construction and attracting settlers, but it was undoubtedly a very fine town. Marianne had visited a few months ago in February, and she was anxious to see Elise again, to hug her and know her sister still loved her—even if she’d failed once again regarding Sophie.