Orphan Train Brides

by Caroline Clemmons

  So that was why Polly was willing to marry a stranger—she didn’t want her children to experience the sharp stab of disappointment that she had.

  “Did Merry live in the same orphanage?”

  “No, we met on the train. Our brothers, too. None of us knew each other before we got on the train.”

  “Are you planning to marry and have more children?”

  “Of course. But when I saw the matron parade the orphan train children through the church and onto the dais, I knew my life wouldn’t go according to my girlish fantasy. It doesn’t bother me—I learned all about false hope the day I stepped off the orphan train.”

  “But what if you don’t have to give up your fantasy? What if you fell in love?”

  “I’d only give in to love if the suitor loved my children and treated them as his own.” She slipped between the blankets. “I think we should get an early start.”

  “I agree, but I have one more question. What if that man were me?”

  Chapter Ten

  Clanks, creaks, and curses awoke Noah as the whiskey trader and his men hitched up the wagon. Noah and Evie had followed the wagon because he reckoned whiskey wouldn’t do the men any good unless they could sell it, and they’d have to go to a town to do it. And that was where he and Evie could find a way to live. Not out in the country—he didn’t know a thing about keeping alive in the wilderness.

  With a gentle shake, he woke Evie. Once she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, he pointed to the wagon.

  “Time to go?” she whispered.

  He put his forefinger on his lips to quiet her then nodded.

  Neither of them had slept much during the night. He’d tried his best to keep Evie warm and safe, but the rocks had poked his back all night, and some bugs had decided he’d make a good midnight snack. Evie had mostly slept on top of him because she was scared to sleep on the ground, and the howls of the coyotes didn’t help.

  At least she’d gotten a few hours of sleep and hadn’t even thrown up once, but his growling stomach had kept him awake until nearly dawn, and by then he’d been so exhausted, he’d slept despite his misery.

  They crept around the boulder and waited while the whiskey trader and his men finished loading the wagon and harnessing the mules. Then, instead of leaving, they all stopped and had a cup of coffee. Noah was anxious to get gone—the sooner they got to a town, the sooner he could filch some food.

  Then Evie sneezed. Twice. Three times. The men all looked toward the boulder that he and Evie had hidden behind. Two of them pulled their pistols and shot, likely to scare them off. The bullets ricocheted off the boulder and Noah pulled Evie to the safest spot.

  Shots came from the other side and he knew they had to get out of there. He grabbed her hand and took off running, staying behind brush and large rocks whenever he could, but also not losing sight of the road, for they’d be lost forever if he did.

  They stayed the course for a long time until the sun was high in the sky. His lips dried up and cracked, and so did Evie’s but she didn’t complain. He was so thirsty, he even stopped sweating, but they had to go on.

  “I can’t walk any more, Noah,” Evie whimpered. She sagged onto a rock and fanned herself. “New York City... was never... this bad.”

  He motioned for her to come on.

  She shook her head, and after a moment, said, “No, Noah. I’m sorry, but my legs... won’t hold me up.” She closed her eyes. “You go on... Bring help.” She fell to the side and Noah had to jump to catch her head before she bashed it on the rock.

  The only thing he could do now was carry her. He picked her up and hoisted her over one shoulder, then staggered back to the road.

  * * *

  Worry niggled at the back of Polly’s mind as her mare plodded along but even so, she couldn’t help the odd feeling of excitement, maybe even euphoria, that washed through her every time she glanced at her husband-in-name-only. Ford was dreadfully handsome, but more than that, he was good-hearted and generous.

  She’d wakened to the first rays of sun with Ford holding her close. That was a memory she’d cherish to her dying day.

  In fact, if it weren’t for the boardinghouse she would seriously consider setting her cap for Ford, but Merry couldn’t run the boardinghouse by herself and Polly would never, ever abandon her sister. And anyway, could a gal set her cap for a man who was already her husband? It was a strange circumstance.

  “Are you faring all right?” Ford asked. “We can stop and rest anytime you want to. Just say the word.”

  “I’d rather push on. What’s the next town we come to?”

  “That would be Dailyville.”

  “I hope we run onto the children before we get there, for it’d be a trial to find them in a city. One thing orphans know is how to hide.”

  “The only people who live in Dailyville are the folks who work for Grandpa Moses and their families, plus a few merchants and their families. Don’t you worry—if our children are in town, we’ll find them in no time.”

  “Our?”

  “I signed the papers, too.”

  “I certainly don’t expect you to provide for them so don’t burden yourself when it’s not necessary. You’re just doing me a favor, as I am doing for you.”

  Ford’s gaze was hotter than the noon sun. “Favors don’t have to have a time limit.”

  Polly didn’t know what to say back. Since she and Merry had moved to Mockingbird Flats, she’d had several suitors. None of them, nor any of the other men in town, could compare to Ford. The thought had teased her since the moment they’d met at Bea’s Confectionery. And if she were honest with herself, she’d have to admit that it was highly unlikely she’d ever meet a man who appealed to her as much as Ford did

  They rode another hour before coming up on a nice shady spot beside a creek where they could rest and water the horses. This time, she purposefully waited for Ford to help her down, and when he did, she brushed a kiss across his cheek.

  “Mmm, I liked that.” He didn’t let go of her as he should’ve. Instead, he pulled her closer and Polly had no inclination to stop him.

  “You kissed me at the wedding,” she whispered. “I was only returning the courtesy.”

  “Sugar, what I feel for you right now has nothing to do with courtesy.” He kissed her so deeply she thought she float right off the ground. Then he set her away from him. “Any more of that, and I’ll never get the horses tended.”

  She cleared her throat. “I’ll, uh, fill the canteens.”

  * * *

  Noah dreamed he was floating in a nice soft cocoon with cool water bathing his face. He didn’t want to open his eyes and spoil it all, but he had enough wherewithal to know he needed to check on Evie. When he did open his eyes, lace curtains wafted in the breeze over him, and his cocoon was a feather bed.

  An old man with kind eyes and a scraggly beard dabbed at Noah’s face with a wet cloth. “Good to see you’re finally awake. Looks like you and your little sister got a little overheated out there. You was in quite a pickle when we run onto you sprawled out on the road.”

  His sister? Noah had to know if Evie was all right and tried to gesture the question, but the old man didn’t catch it.

  “She’s quite a talker. Says you don’t talk at all, though. Is that right?”

  Noah nodded.

  “Don’t you go worrying none about her. She’s downstairs with Margaret—she’s my cook—mixing up a double batch of oatmeal cookies. By the smell, I expect you can sample some in a few minutes.”

  Noah was relieved to hear that, and he sure did like cookies, but wondered what he should do—get Evie out? But he was so tired. The old man seemed nice enough. That could change as quick as a gust of wind, though.

  People were nice until they didn’t get what they wanted from you. Noah had learned that over and over again. Except Mama Polly, and Aunt Merry—after a month, he’d decided they were genuinely kind ladies.

  “I’ll even keep it a secret that you can
talk,” the old man said. “Even Evie doesn’t need to know if you don’t want her to.”

  Noah sat up like a shot and stared at the old man.

  “By the way, I’m Moses Daily. You can call me Grandpa Moses if you want.” He swished the cloth around in a bowl of water, wrung it out then handed it to Noah. “You better keep this on your face. You got yourself quite a sunburn, and I expect your skin will peel as it is. The cooler you keep it, the less it’ll hurt tomorrow. Maybe Margaret has some pickle juice to put on it.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “I also expect you want to know how I know you can talk.”

  Noah nodded.

  “That’s on account of you jabbered like a magpie the whole while you was passed out and feverish. You didn’t stop talking until your fever broke a little bit ago. If you want to know what you said, I took a few notes.”

  He tapped his noggin. “The memory ain’t as good as it used to be.”

  Noah hadn’t talked for so long, he didn’t remember how to answer questions that weren’t questions, but he sure did want to know what he’d said.

  “Let me tell you about my big brother.” Grandpa Moses pointed a picture on the wall. It was of a young man dressed in a suit. “He got in the way of a bunch of Indians. They was likely on a hunting party or some such and didn’t have time for prisoners or entertainment so they let him go. But before they did, they told him if he so much as said one word, they’d cut his tongue out. So he didn’t say a word. He got back home all right, but he didn’t talk for more than a year.”

  The old man stood and flexed his back. “Danged rheumatism.” He tousled Noah’s hair. “When you want to have a little chat, come on downstairs. We have lots of food, too, if you feel up to having a meal. Looks like you and your sister could use a little meat on your bones.”

  He handed Noah a peppermint stick. “This might settle your stomach some. I’ll fetch you some tea and bring another pitcher of water. There’s a chamber pot under the bed.”

  Noah really wanted to say something to the old man who’d offered for a strange boy to call him grandpa but he couldn’t think of a single clever thing. He swallowed and took a breath.

  “Thanks, Grandpa Moses.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Ford had mixed feelings. He hadn’t seen his home in six years and he’d missed it sorely every single day.

  “We’ll be at the ranch soon,” he told Polly. “This is where we played when I was a boy. Those rocks over there make a great fort.”

  “What if my children aren’t there?”

  “I don’t know where they could’ve gone other than the ranch—maybe Dailyville, but I doubt it.”

  He and Polly had run across the whiskey wagon that morning. It was stopped for a busted wheel. When Ford asked the whiskey trader if he’d seen a boy and a girl, he’d said, “Yep. They was stowed in our wagon. I ran ’em off last night but they snuck around—stole some cooked rabbit, too—so my men ran them off for good this morning.”

  “How far back was that?”

  “Oh, about a mile, I expect.”

  Polly had been appalled. “You abandoned those children in the middle of nowhere?”

  “Hell, they ain’t mine. Their folks ought to keep a better eye on them.”

  Ford and Polly had ridden three hours since then.

  “The ranch house is up ahead just around the bend. If Noah and Evie aren’t there, Dailyville is just a couple miles beyond. I’m almost positive we’ll find them, and if we don’t, we’ll round up a search party. We’ll have the children back to you by nightfall.”

  She’d been quiet the last few miles. She brushed the dust off her face and then said, “I surely hope so.” Then after a bit, she added, “Will your grandfather be at the ranch house?”

  “Most likely. I guess we’ll find out.”

  A quarter of an hour later, they rode into the barnyard. A big happy dog greeted them with excited barking and a vigorously wagging tail.

  “Well, here we are—the Rocking MAD, best ranch in all of Texas.”

  He dismounted and looped the reins around the hitching post, then helped Polly off her mare.

  By then, a stablehand Ford didn’t recognize trotted out from the barn. “I’ll take good care of your horses during your visit, sir.”

  “Much obliged.” Ford guided Polly onto the big wraparound porch. “I don’t know whether to knock on the door or not. It’s my own house so there’s no need to knock, right? But they don’t know I’m here, so I don’t wanna surprise anyone.”

  “I just want to know if my children are here.” She licked her lips—the lips he wished he could kiss right then. “And I wouldn’t mind a tall glass of water.”

  Ford decided to do both. First he knocked then he opened the door. “Margaret, are you here?”

  She trotted her hefty self to the door, gasped, and flung her arms around him. “Well if it ain’t our Ford!”

  She squeezed his cheeks between the palms of her hands. “You’re just as handsome as your grandpa if I do say so myself.”

  He chuckled, then stepped back and put his arm around Polly’s waist. “Margaret, meet my wife, Polly.”

  Margaret eyed his bride up and down. “My stars, you sure did find yourself a pretty one.”

  Polly curtsied. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “You must be hungry and thirsty.” The cook crooked her index finger. “Come into the parlor. We don’t put on airs here, so just make yourself comfortable. I’ll go fetch Moses. There won’t be a happier man on the face of this earth when he sees the two of you. Then I’ll rustle up some food for you.”

  After she went upstairs, Ford remembered that Polly’s lips were dry from thirst—he didn’t want to wait for the cook to fetch a glass of water when he could get it himself. “I’ll be right back with your drink.” He sniffed and smiled. “And maybe some of Margaret’s famous oatmeal cookies.”

  When he walked into the kitchen, he couldn’t have been more surprised. A little girl was scooping cookies onto a platter.

  “Those cookies look mighty fine, miss, and they smell even better. Would you mind putting a few on a saucer for me and my wife?”

  The girl’s arms were so scrawny, they looked like sticks with skin pulled over them. “Did Grandma Margaret say you could have some?”

  “Not exactly, but I bet she wouldn’t mind, and we’re both hungry.” He pumped a glass of water. He didn’t know Margaret had had children, let alone grandchildren. “I’m Ford. Moses Daily is my grandpa. What’s your name?”

  “Evelyn, but I go by Evie. And Grandma Margaret isn’t really my grandma, but she said to call her that.”

  “Evie?” She must be Polly’s adopted daughter. “What’s your last name, Evie?”

  “I don’t rightly know anymore. I guess it would be Evie Bird.” She put the last cookie on the plate and handed it to Ford.

  “Tell you what, come with me. I have a surprise for you.”

  “Is it sweet?” She followed him down the hall.

  “Sweetest I ever saw.”

  When they got to the parlor, Evie came to a dead stop. “Mama Polly!”

  Polly sprang from the couch and practically smothered the little girl with hugs. “I was so worried about you and Noah.”

  “I missed you, ’specially last night. It was scary. And we got really hungry. I don’t like sleeping on the ground.”

  “Where’s your brother?” Polly was teary-eyed so Ford gave her his handkerchief.

  “Upstairs. He tried too hard to take care of me and he fell and he didn’t get up. I thought he was dead for sure, but then I was so tired, I fell asleep right there on the road. Then an old man came along and said he’d give us food and a place to sleep. He picked up Noah and put him in the back of the wagon on some straw. I stayed with Noah and tried to get him to drink from the canteen but he wouldn’t.”

  “My stars, that sounds harrowing. Are you all right? How’s your stomach?”

  “I didn’t puke once while
we were gone.” Evie beamed a smile, then frowned then heaved all over Polly and the parlor rug.

  “I’ll get a bucket of water and a rag,” Ford said as he took off for the kitchen.

  By the time he got back, Grandpa Moses was standing in the parlor doorway and Margaret was fussing over Polly.

  “Welcome home, Ford. Margaret said you brought your bride. She don’t look old enough to have a girl Evie’s age.”

  He held up the bucket. “Uh, I have to get this to Polly. Evie got sick.”

  “I see that.” Grandpa Moses stepped back. “Is the boy hers, too?”

  “Yes,” Polly said. “He’s mine. Is he all right?” She wiped her neck and dabbed at her bodice.

  “He’s fine. But looks like your husband ought to pick you up and carry you to the horse trough. He can shuck you down and throw water on you. It’d be a whole lot faster, and Margaret could get to the rug faster, too. I’ll help her take it up.”

  “I’m sorry!” Evie wailed. “I didn’t puke or poop one single time while we were running away.”

  Polly wiped Evie’s mouth with a clean cloth. “Never you mind—we’ll get this cleaned up. You’re not in trouble. And you’re safe.”

  After Ford thought about it a minute, he decided his grandpa was right. “Stand up, Polly, and I’ll carry you outside. Then I’ll come back in and get Evie. Grandpa and Margaret can take care of the parlor. We’ll have everything cleaned up in a lamb’s shake.”

  “And I’ll bring one of Ford’s mother’s dresses for you to put on,” Margaret said. “Moses, help me move the couch and the end table so we can take up the rug.”

  Ford helped Polly stand then he put one arm behind her knees and lifted her like a baby. “Let’s go, sugar.”

  “But you’re getting yourself all messy.”

  “I’m a veterinarian—we get messy. It all cleans up.”

  By then he’d carried her outside and set her down by the trough. “Need help getting those clothes off?” He didn’t know whether he was being helpful or had succumbed to wishful thinking. Maybe a little of both. Vomit did put a damper on things, though.