The train came to a stop and Frances began to collect their baggage, but Aggie interrupted her, gripping Frances's arm with damp fingers. "Please," she begged in a hoarse whisper, "may I have a hair ribbon?"
"Of course," Frances said, and hugged her. She pulled a ribbon from her caipetbag and tied it around Aggie's hair. "You look lovely," Frances said, "and— remember—^you're also lovely on the inside, Aggie."
Aggie didn't answer. Her face was pale with fear.
Frances led the children to the station platform, where she was met by a tall, prosperous-looking gentleman who introduced himself. "I'm Arthur Knowles, bank president and chairman of the local committee to approve or disapprove those who apply to adopt the orphan train children."
His eyebrows rose and dipped again. "Only four children? We were hoping for more. There are at least a dozen couples who've come to the schoolhouse to meet the children."
Frances smiled at her charges, but only Eddie smiled back. "Let's not keep them waiting," she said.
She took a step forward, following Mr. Knowles, but stumbled as, in the distance, she saw the man she had thought was Seth. He was standing at the far end of the railway platform, one hand on his horse's reins, facing Frances, but his hat was pulled down, shading his face so that Frances couldn't make out his features.
She gripped Eddie's shoulder and asked, "Who is that man at the far end of the station—^the one with the horse?"
"Can't see him," Eddie answered. "Only his pants and boots."
Frances looked up quickly, but the man had moved to the other side of his horse.
If he's Seth^ Frances thought, he's trying to frighten me. But he's not Seth, He can't be. Seth has better things to do than follow me. And didn't Sheriff MaUoy tell me that the sheriffs along the route would keep a lookout for Seth?
The man turned and squinted up at the sun as though trying to tell the time, and Frances could clearly see that he was not Seth. She let out such a long sigh of relief that Mr. Knowles turned to her with a questioning look. / have to stop worrying about Seth and what he might do, Frances scolded herself.
"Are you coming. Miss Kelly?" Mr. Knowles asked. "Is anything wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," Frances said. Standing tall, she strode after Mr. Knowles and the children in her care. All she had time to think of now was finding homes for the four of them.
As they entered the cool dimness of Woodridge's school for the first through the eighth grade, Frances could hear a hum of voices.
"We built the meeting hall along with the school," Mr. Knowles said proudly. "It's the only school in these parts with its own auditorium."
Frances murmured something polite, but her mind was on the people who had stopped talking and had turned to watch as she escorted the children to the stage.
She began to speak about the Children's Aid Society's placing-out program. Then, when she introduced the children, she mentioned not only their names and ages, but all the good things she'd observed about them.
"I'll be down here," Frances told them as she left the stage. "Please feel free to talk to the children. I know that you'll love them when you meet them."
Two couples, disappointed expressions on their faces, came to Frances.
"We were hoping for a baby," one woman said.
"We wanted a little boy, around four or five—^the age of our only son. These are all older children," another woman complained.
"Jessie is only nine," Frances said. "She's hoping for a mother and father to love."
The woman's husband shook his head. 'Too old," he said, and both couples left the auditorium.
But the man and woman who'd been talking to Harry came to Frances. "Harry Stowe's a nice boy," the man said. He held out his hand. "I'm Luther Dunkling, and this is my missus, Rhoda. We'd like to take Harry to live with us."
Frances liked the honest happiness in the Dunklings' faces. She beamed. "Harry is a wonderful boy," she said. "He's going to be sad for a while because his little brother was adopted at the last stop, but please be patient with him. I'm sure he'll be obedient and cooperative and will soon be very happy with you."
Mrs. Dunkling nodded. "I know what to do with unhappy boys," she said. "Give them a lot of love."
Mr. Knowles gave his approval of the Dunklings, and Frances helped them fill out the proper papers.
She hugged Harry, wiping away some of his tears, but he stiffened, and she could feel his anger.
"Harry," Frances whispered, **the Dunklings are good people. TheyTl be good to you and make you happy."
"How can I be happy without Adam?" Harry said, but he allowed Mr. Dunkling to take his hand as they left the building. .
Another couple stepped up. The man was plump, with rosy cheeks and deep laugh lines in his face. His wife was tall and thin and looked as if she rarely smiled.
"We're Ethel and Carl Oliver," the woman said. "We've been approved by the committee—just ask Arthur Knowles. Everything's in order, and we'd like to sign up to take Jessie with us."
Frances glanced at Mr. Knowles, who smiled and nodded. Frances suddenly remembered what Sheriff Malloy's wife had said about committee members approving their best customers or best friends without question, even though they might not be the most satisfactory parents.
Mrs. Oliver kept a steady gaze on Frances. "Could we please sign the papers now? We have a long ride back to our farm."
"I have some questions first," Frances said. "Do you have other children?"
"1 gave birth to five. Two survived childhood. They're grown and off on their own."
"What is the purpose in taking Jessie?"
Mrs. Oliver bristled, but Mr. Oliver chuckled. "Our house is too quiet. We'd like to have a child in the house," he said.
Frances took Jessie aside. "Do you want to go
with the Olivers?" she asked. "You have the choice to go or not."
Jessie looked around the room. "I'd say I didn't have much of a choice. This is the third stop and no one's wanted me until now."
"I promise you, Jessie, I'll find a family who'll make you happy," Frances said.
Jessie shrugged. "The Olivers are all right. She's down in the mouth, but he laughs a lot. I'd just as soon know I'll have a home than have to go through all this again."
Frances made sure the papers were in order and watched Jessie—still solemn-faced—^being led away.
Only a few people were left in the room when an elderly couple entered. They paused, glanced around, then made their way directly to Aggie.
The woman was arthritic and walked slowly and carefully, the man's hand under her elbow to steady her. They smiled at Aggie, and Frances sighed with relief. Their smiles were warm and their eyes were kind. Frances hurried to join them.
"We're Bertha and Eldon Bradon," the man said.
"We're so glad you're here," Mrs. Bradon said to Aggie. "We wanted a girl."
Aggie's mouth fell open in surprise. She struggled to compose herself and said, "You want meT'
"What's your name, child?" Mr. Bradon asked.
"Aggie. That is, it's Agatha Mae Vaughn," Aggie answered.
"A beautiful name," Mr. Bradon said.
"We live less than a mile from this school, Aggie," Mrs. Bradon told her, "and we've always felt that learning is important. So come late September, after the harvest, when school starts up again.
youTl be enrolled. How do you feel about going to school?"
"I like to read, and I'm good with my numbers," Aggie answered.
Mr. Bradon's eyes twinkled. "I knew you would be," he said. "I could tell right ofif you were smart."
Frances saw the comers of Aggie's lips turn down as she glanced ^' Mrs. Bradon's twisted fingers. "I know why you want me. It's to do your household chores," she said bluntly.
Mrs. Bradon looked surprised. "Only your share, dear. In a family, everyone helps," she said.
Aggie looked from Mrs. Bradon to Mr. Bradon and back again. Seemingly embarrassed by her outburst, she said, "I do
want to help around the house, and I'm good at sewing, too."
"Will you come with us and be our little girl?" Mrs. Bradon asked.
Aggie threw a quick, desperate glance at FYances. Frances knew that Aggie had been hoping for young parents to love her. Frances smiled and nodded at Aggie, hoping she'd get the message. There was no rule that parents had to be young. The Bradons were kind, loving people.
Aggie glanced around the nearly empty room and then at Eddie, who sat alone on one side of the stage. "Ill come with you," she said.
After arrangements had been made with the Bradons, Aggie surprised Frances by impulsively wrapping her in a goodbye hug.
"You said someone would come to check on me," she whispered.
"Andrew MacNair will," Frances said.
"Promise?"
"I promise," Frances murmured against Aggie's cheek. "But I'm sure you'll want to stay with the Bradons. I have a feeling that you'll be happy with them, Aggie."
Aggie straightened and took a deep breath. "At least I was chosen by people who wanted me. Mrs. Marchlander was wrong."
Frances's heart swelled with pride as she watched Aggie and the Bradons head for the doors. She knew now that Aggie would have a chance to be truly happy.
As soon as Aggie and the Bradons had left, Frances hurried over to Eddie. He jumped off his stool and then off the stage, threw his arms around Frances, and burst into tears.
"I can't go back to New York," he sobbed. "Please, please don't send me back!"
"No one's going to send you back," Frances said. "I promise."
Eddie buried his head against Frances's shoulder. "You promised that someone would want me. You promised I'd have parents and a home."
With one arm Frances held Eddie tightly. With the other hand she reached up to wipe tears from her own eyes. Eddie, with his glib tongue and mischief written all over his face, might have put off people who wanted a dutiful, well-behaved boy; but Frances loved Eddie just the way he was. He reminded her so much of Mike.
Elddie pulled back and looked up into Frances's eyes. "Why don't you take me?" he asked. "It don't matter to me that you're not married and I won't have a father. You'll need me all the more because I'll be a big help with the chores. I'm healthy. I'm strong.
Sure, I may be small for my age, but who cares? I can do a man's work easy."
"Eddie, there are rules," Frances tried to explain. "The Society believes that the children placed should have both mothers and fathers."
"You work for them," Eddie said, fear in his eyes. "Maybe you could talk to someone who owes you a favor."
Frances sat on the edge of the stage and took his hands. ^That's not the way I do things, Eddie," she said. "And Fm sure the people in the Children's Aid Society don't either. But there is something I can do."
"What?" Eddie's voice had dropped to a whisper.
"My mother lives in St Joe," Frances said. "Let's pay her a visit She's full of good ideas." Frances grinned. "And advice, too. And while we're there, we can talk to Andrew MacNair. He's the agent in charge. Between us we'll find you a happy home."
She stood and walked over to Mr. Knowles. "Do you know when the next train to St. Joe comes through?"
He looked at his watch. "Not until four o'clock, but as you know, it's a short trip—less than an hour." He looked at Eddie. "1 didn't know that St. Joe was a scheduled stop for the orphan train riders."
"It isn't," Frances said. "My mother lives in St Joe, and I'd like to spend a few days with her."
Mr. Knowles nodded. "We'll finish the paperwork, and I'll see that the two of you get a good dinner. Then I'll take you to the depot" Under his breath he said to Frances, "Do you think you'll find a home for the lad?"
"I know I will," Frances said, but her heart gave a thump. Three groups of people had been unable to see Eddie's special qualities—his good humor, high-
F
spiritedness, and quickness of mind—the very qualities she treasured in her brother Mike. However, she would find a good home for Eddie. She had to. The promise she had made had not been just to Eddie. It had been to herself.
Ma was overjoyed to see Frances and welcomed Eddie by leading him to the kitchen. "You*re a handsome lad," Ma said, "but far too thin for your own good. Someone's going to have to put some meat on those bones." She smiled down at Eddie. "You remind me of my son Mike. Same red hair, same mischievous look, same big smile."
Eddie beamed and lit into the beef stew that Ma had heated up and served to them.
"Can you keep Eddie a few days, until Andrew and I find him a home?" Frances asked.
"Of course I can," Ma assured her. "And I can tell you right now, it'U be fine with John as well."
"I wish I could adopt him," Frances said quietly to her mother. "Ekldie and I have shared a lot, and I feel
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so close to him." She sighed. "In a way Tm going to be jealous of whoever gets him."
"Why can't you adopt Eddie?" Ma asked.
"There are rules. No single parents."
Ma just raised an eyebrow. She had no time to say what she meant because Peg bounced into the room.
Peg greeted Eddie quickly, then flew into her sister's arms. "Why are you here, Frances? Where have you been? Tell me! TeU me everything!" she cried.
Frances settled into one of the comfortable overstuffed chairs in the living room and told Ma and Peg why she had gone to New York and about the orphan train children and their trip to Missouri.
"The building we lived in is gone, you say," Ma murmured, and Frances could see memories pile like tears in her mother's eyes.
"But the church was still there," Frances told her, "and it looked exactly as it did when we lived on Sixteenth Street."
Ma's fijngers plucked at the edge of the tablecloth, "That seems like such a long time ago."
Frances grirmed, leaning forward. "I saw Mr. Lo-max," she said, and went on to tell how she had puzzled him by speaking to him.
Ma laughed with delight. "So your journey both ways was uneventful," she said. "I'm glad of that."
Eddie smothered a noise, and Frances glanced at him, her eyes twinkling. There was a flash of humor in Eddie's eyes, but it was obvious that he was a very tired boy.
"Ma, can we make up a bed for Eddie?" Frances asked.
"After a good hot bath," Ma suggested, but Frances shook her head.
"Sleep first, bath tomorrow. Eddie's had a very tiring day."
Peg jumped to her feet. "Ill put sheets on the bed in the spare room for Ekldie," she said. "Frances can sleep with me."
As Peg and Eddie left the room, Ma said, "Frances, Fd like to hear more about the children you brought to new homes."
"I wrote about all thirty children in the last few pages of my journal," Frances said. She put the blue cloth-bound book on the table and said, "Wait until I make us some tea Then 111 use the journal to refresh my memory."
She found some gingerbread in the pantry and arranged pieces on a plate while she waited for the water in the kettle to come to a boil. Finally the tea had steeped in the pot long enough to have body, and Frances carried the tray with the teapot, cups, plates, and gingerbread into the living room.
Ma waited until Frances had poured the tea, then said, "I was impatient. I glanced through the journal."
"Ma!" Frances said.
"You didn't tell me it was a private journal," Ma said. "I thought you had written about the children in your care."
"I did."
Ma shrugged. "A little." She looked stem. "You didn't tell me about that man named Seth and what happened on the train. Just who was this Seth?"
Frances sighed. "As you probably read, 1 met Seth on the orphan train in the New Jersey depot. He was disguised as a preacher to escape the police, but he is a former Confederate soldier. A poor, mixed-up man who's filled with hatred and bitterness about the war, like ... Uke . . ."
"Like Johnny? You wrote quite a bit about Johnny."
"Oh, Ma!" Frances said. "Johnny is ne
ver going to ask me to marry him. He even refuses to discuss marriage. He broods about the Confederate prison camp and what the Rebs did, and he's shut me out completely." She rested her head in her hands and said, "I thought I could forget about him, but I can't. I love him too much."
"Then don't give up," Ma said.
Frances looked down, blushing. "We had a terrible argument. There were things I said . . ."
"There are words to undo the harm. Try."
"How?"
"Send Johnny a letter. Tell him when you'll return to Maxville. Tell him you missed him."
"What if I don't hear from him?"
"You'll never know if you don't try."
Frances thought a moment. "But I don't know when I'll go back. I'll have to find a good home for Eddie first. He's a special boy. Ma I care very much what happens to him."
Ma smiled and reached over to squeeze Frances's hand. "Oh, Frances, love," she said, "I thought you would have figured out the answer to that one by this time."
The next morning Frances wrote to Johnny. Then, with Eddie at her side, she walked to town to mail the letter. "Let's take a side trip on our way to the post offlce," she said. "I want you to get a glimpse of the Missouri River in sunlight"
The path FYances chose cut through a wooded area When she and Eddie were deep in the shadow of the trees she thought she heard footsteps and the clip'Clop of a horse's hooves. She stopped and listened, but there were no sounds at all, not even the usual trills of the birds.
Was it my imagination? she asked herself. Eddie was laughing and scurrying after a rabbit Surely he would have heard the footsteps, if they had been real. Frances walked on, Eddie darting here and there to examine new things.
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Again she heard the footsteps and the hoofbeats. She stopped and turned. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she said, "Come out, Seth. Talk to me. I won't harm you."
Eddie, eyes frightened, dashed to Frances's side.
For a long moment there was nothing but silence. Then a horse whinnied, and Seth walked out from behind a thick stand of trees and brush, leading his horse. He wore his flat-brimmed black hat and Confederate jacket.
Circle of Love Page 12
