by Janice Hanna
“Bad impression?”
“Well, sure.” Joe chuckled. “You think I don’t know that yer meetin’ a woman up at the station? Yer mama told me all about it when she stopped by earlier this morning. I think it’s a fine thing she’s doing, this woman. She must be a brave soul to take on those children. If she lives through it, we’ll have to give her a plaque…or maybe name the town after her.”
“Town already has a girly name,” Tucker said, turning to look in the mirror. “Named after Daisy Beck.”
“What’s this new gal’s name, anyway?” Joe asked. He wiped the lotion from Gene’s face then covered his cheeks with a hot towel. “Yer mama didn’t mention a name. Not that this gal will be stickin’ around long enough to get to know it. Or her.”
Gene counted to ten silently under the towel and then muttered, “Rena.”
“Rena.” All the men echoed the name in unison.
Pulling off the towel, Gene sat up in the chair. “Yep.”
“Guess we won’t be changing the name of the town after all,” Tucker said. “I was hopin’ she’d have a name like Centerville or something like that.” He slapped his knee and erupted into laughter. When he finally calmed down, the men began a discussion about what Miss Jewel would look like. Old Man Tucker had his bets on a redhead. Rudy Williams insisted that she would be an older woman with white hair and arthritic joints. A couple of the other fellas figured she’d be middle-aged and plain, a spinster with no prospects.
Gene didn’t want to speculate. Frankly, he didn’t care what she looked like, as long as she stuck around. He’d initially taken a liking to Mrs. Wabash, after all. Before she showed how she truly felt about the children. And the director before that had seemed to be fine at first. As had the one before that. But every one had abandoned him—er, the children—in short order. Likely this one would do the same, white-headed or not.
He wouldn’t allow himself to befriend the orphanage’s new director, even if she did happen to be easy on the eyes…which he doubted. No, he would keep things on a business level, as always.
Off in the distance the church bells rang out the hour. Three o’clock in the afternoon. Yikes. The train would arrive shortly. He needed to meet Miss Jewel and then take her to the orphanage to introduce her to the children. Hopefully she wouldn’t run for the hills at that point.
“You still with us, Gene?” The barber gave him a brusque pat on the shoulder and Gene jerked to attention. “Looked like we lost you there for a minute.”
“No. Just thinking.”
“No doubt thinking about that pretty gal who’s about to step off the train. Well, remember, there are plenty of fine single men in town if she’s not what you had in mind. All right?”
Gene groaned. When would these fellas learn that he wasn’t interested? They’d be better served by talking about the weather.
Thank goodness, the conversation shifted back to just that. And before long, Old Man Tucker began talking about some sort of problem the children at the orphanage had caused in town. Just one more reason to celebrate Miss Jewel’s arrival. She would be the calming factor. Yes, before long the chaos would die down and life would return to normal. Whatever that looked like.
A squeal of brakes sounded and the train jolted with such force that Rena almost toppled out of the chair where she’d been reading a book. Through the window, she saw bits of soot and ash floating in the air. They must’ve arrived in Daisy. She hoped so, anyway. After three days of stops and starts, she was ready to step off this train and find her legs again. And her stomach, for that matter.
She rose and did the best she could to make herself look presentable. One look in the mirror showed her that the task might be hopeless. Her hair needed a good washing, and her puffy eyes carried the weight of three days’ travel.
Still, she gave it her best try, washing her face and pulling her hair up loosely. She put on a sensible, sturdy dress and buttoned her shoes before giving her cheeks a pinch to add some color. “There. Not too bad, not too bad.”
A rap on the door roused her from her ponderings. “We’ve arrived in Daisy, miss,” the porter’s voice rang out. “I’ll be back shortly to fetch your bags.”
She spent the next few minutes organizing and packing. By the time the porter returned, she’d managed to get everything into place. She swung wide the door, offered him a smile, and gestured to the bags. Inside, she felt like mush, but on the outside she maintained a level of decorum and composure.
“All ready, I see.” He nodded and took hold of the bags. “Follow me, then.” He led the way through a train car still loaded with people. Most of these folk—like the trio of sisters she’d grown so fond of—were going on to Tulsa, not getting off in Daisy. In fact, hardly anyone appeared to be exiting the train. Was she the only one? Was Daisy really that small?
The three sisters approached and each took her turn wrapping Rena in her arms and offering advice.
“We’re going to stay in touch, sweet girl.” Mamie gave her a final squeeze. “And that’s a promise.”
“I’m counting on it.” Rena flashed what she hoped looked like a brave smile.
As the porter took her hand to help her down from the train, she noticed he was whistling a familiar little tune. She began to hum along in unison as the melody took hold. “‘Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do….’” She could hear the ladies singing along inside the train at the top of their lungs.
Rena couldn’t help but smile…for a moment, anyway. Then the smoke cleared and she could see the town in all its glory.
What there was of it.
Turned out there was little to this place. A tiny general store with a broken sign out front. A jailhouse. An even smaller milliner’s shop. A hay-and-feed store, the largest of the four. Was there even a post office? However would she mail letters to Sadie? Ah, yes, she could see the sign now. The post office was inside the general store.
She shivered and pulled her wrap tightly over her shoulders. Yes, Reuben, you were right. It’s cooler here in October. Determined to stay positive about the situation, she took another glance about.
Off in the distance a man pushed a wooden cart loaded with goods, which he hawked to anyone willing to listen. Nearby, a handful of boys dressed in ragged overalls hovered over a game of marbles. A dog, matted and dirty, rested nearby.
“Daisy, Oklahoma, miss.” The porter tipped his hat, set her bags on a bench, and extended his hand. She fumbled inside her purse for a coin, which she delivered with a half smile.
“Enjoy your stay.” The porter tipped his hat once more then scurried aboard the train.
For a moment, she thought about joining him. She glanced back and noticed the three sisters in the window, who were waving like mad. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to turn back. Yes, now that she’d caught a glimpse of Daisy, Gulfport was looking more appealing than ever. Or maybe she could go on to Tulsa with Amy, Jamie, and Mamie—to spend a few weeks with her new friends before heading back to Gulfport, where Reuben would give her an “I told you so” speech.
“Miss Jewel?”
Her thoughts were interrupted by a man’s deep voice and she turned, her gaze falling on a fellow so rugged and handsome that he nearly took her breath away. She’d seen pictures of cowboys, of course, but none of those quite compared to this dashing fellow with the dark, wavy hair and dimpled smile.
Rena noticed the Stetson right away. And the blue jeans, starched and pressed. He wore a silver badge, pinned to his brown button-up shirt. What drew her eyes the most, however, were the broad shoulders. And the boyish smile. And those bright blue eyes. Why, this fellow would be the perfect candidate to grace the cover of her novel, should it ever be published. And with that gun strapped to his side, he was ideal “hero material” for the story inside, no doubt about it.
Heavens. Suddenly she felt a little warmer than before.
“Miss Jewel?” he said again.
Rena came to her senses. “Oh, yes. I’m Rena Jewel. And
you are…?”
“Sheriff Gene Wyatt.” He tipped his hat. “I’m so glad you’ve come. You’re a godsend.”
Rena managed her rehearsed speech, hoping to make a good impression. “I do hope I can be of service to the children and the community. It’s my fondest wish.” She offered a smile. Perhaps, if she managed to keep her head about her, he wouldn’t realize just how inadequate she suddenly felt.
He gazed at her, his deep blue eyes offering a penetrating gaze. She found herself enraptured. If she were to paint them, she would choose a sky blue. No, perhaps midnight blue would be best. On the other hand, midnight blue might be a tad bit dark. His eyes were really more bright than dark, weren’t they?
“Are you ready to meet the children?”
Rena jolted to attention and nodded. She secretly wished she could bathe and put on a pressed gown before meeting her young charges. In fact, she rather wished she’d had the opportunity to do that before meeting this handsome stranger. Still, what else could she do? Some things couldn’t be avoided.
Rena managed a quick yes and watched as the sheriff gathered up her bags and led the way to a vehicle. He opened the passenger-side door and she climbed inside, suddenly feeling quite adventurous. As he cranked the car, she peered through the window. Off in the distance, a boy in tattered brown dungarees rolled a hoop down the road. A mangy-looking dog ran alongside him, yapping all the way. Behind them, an older man gave chase, hollering something indistinguishable.
“Gracious.” She smoothed her skirt with gloved hands and sighed as he climbed into the driver’s seat. “Is it always like this?”
“Nah.” He shook his head and she noticed a hint of a smile. “Sometimes it’s worse.”
“Hmm.” Perhaps the sights in Daisy were a bit different than Gulfport, but wasn’t that the idea? Hadn’t she come looking for new experiences? Yes, if one wanted something new and different, this was certainly the place. Now, to get this adventure underway.
Gene tried not to stare, but the woman seated next to him left him more curious than he’d imagined. She wore her light brown hair pulled back in a loose style he’d rarely seen. The dress was store-bought, no doubt about that. And it showed off her trim figure. She’d paid a pretty penny for it, to be sure. Still, he couldn’t help but think it made her look a bit stiff. She didn’t exactly look matronly…more cautious. Likely the children would give her even more reason to be cautious.
He did his best to make light conversation but wondered all the while just how much he should tell her. Should he warn her about her young charges—let her know what she’d be walking into? Should he mention Mrs. Wabash’s reasons for her sudden departure, or just let nature take its course?
He glanced at Miss Jewel once more, noticing for the first time her delicate features, lace-trimmed gloves, and pristine movements as she brushed a loose hair from her face.
Hmm. No. No point in giving away the problem just yet. He would let the chips fall where they may. No doubt they would fall sooner rather than later.
Chapter Seven
TIPS FOR DEALING WITH UNRULY YOUNG’UNS—As the former director of the Atoka County Children’s Home, I have much to add to the discussion on child-rearing, particularly when it comes to boys. Unfortunately, much of what I would have to say could not be committed to the written page, for fear that it would be used against me as I seek employment in other faraway states. Suffice it to say, I will no longer be serving the children of Daisy, Oklahoma, as director. My wounds—physical and emotional—will heal in time, but I will not return even if they plead. The Wednesday afternoon train has carried me to a far safer place, one where the children can do me no harm. My words of wisdom for the new director? Run as fast and as furiously as you can in the opposite direction. You can thank me later for warning you.
—Mrs. Wabash, a Reformed Lover of Small Children
As they made the drive to the orphanage, Rena tried to keep her wits about her. She found Daisy smaller than she had expected and somewhat behind the times, though she would never say so. Very few vehicles graced the main street. Folks still moved about in wagons and on horseback. That would be intimidating enough, but the clothing! She’d hardly ever seen people in such worn attire. The men, for the most part, wore overalls and graying white shirts. In spite of the cool weather, children ran about in bare feet. The women wore sensible cotton dresses much plainer than the ones she’d brought with her, and many of their dresses had faded to unrecognizable shades. Would folks find her uppity if she wore her store-bought dresses from home?
Home.
The word flitted through her mind and a pang of homesickness gripped her. She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d made a mistake. But just as quickly, she scolded herself. Just because people in Daisy dressed differently didn’t mean anything. Who was she to judge folks based on appearance?
Rena made up her mind to give the town a second chance. Through the window she caught a glimpse of a large ramshackle house off in the distance next to an overgrown lot high with weeds. She held her breath as he pulled up in front of it.
“Welcome to the Atoka County Children’s Home.” Sheriff Wyatt turned off the car and got out. He came around to her side and opened the door. Though hesitant, she stepped out, her gaze shifting to the house before her.
Rena took in the dilapidated brown building—the sagging roof, the rotted porch, the woodwork in need of painting—and immediately felt her throat constrict. She knew that tears would shortly follow. She’d pictured a great many things, but not this. Never in her born days had she seen a home so broken down, so in need of repair. “This…this is it?” she managed at last.
“It is.” The sheriff opened the half-broken front gate and ushered her inside. “I know it’s not much to look at. But it’s a fine old building.” His brow wrinkled as he turned back to face her. “Please give it a try?”
“Yes, of course.” Rena’s years at the Villa in Gulfport had done little to prepare her for such a home, but to snub it because of its age would be wrong. Perhaps the outside appearance was deceiving. Surely the inside would be better. She would not panic, regardless. Perhaps this was one reason the Lord had brought her here, to shine a light on the problem. Surely the missions society would help once they learned of the home’s poor condition. She hoped so, anyway.
“Can I meet the children now?” she asked, more determined than ever.
“You sure you’re ready?” The sheriff quirked a brow, and for a moment she thought she saw a hint of a nervous smile on that handsome face. Was he teasing her, perhaps? If so, she wouldn’t allow him to deter her from the path she was meant to follow.
“Why, of course. I wouldn’t come all this way, otherwise. I’ve been ready for days. I’ve thought of little else.” Squaring her shoulders, she offered up a silent prayer that the Lord would go before her and make her path straight. She also added a quick And give me courage, Lord! addendum to stop her knees from shaking.
He cleared his throat. “Fine, then. Our former director, Mrs. Wabash, left just this afternoon, so my mother has been watching the children in her stead. They’re inside, waiting. I know they’re very excited to meet you.”
He swung wide the door and gestured for her to step inside the empty foyer. Rena had no sooner taken the first step than an avalanche of water soaked her from above. Shaken, she glanced up and noticed the tipped bucket suspended from the door. She shivered and tried to gather her thoughts, but it was no use. Water dripped from her new skirt into puddles on the floor below. In desperation, she looked at the sheriff, hoping he would help her make sense of this.
Instead, he hollered out, nearly deafening her: “William and Jacob, you get your tails out here at once before I knock you into tomorrow.”
Two sandy-haired, freckle-faced little boys appeared from the next room with sheepish grins on their faces. The one with the milk moustache looked to be seven or eight. He took one look at her soggy attire and erupted into laughter. Seconds later, the other one�
�probably nine or ten—joined in. Rena did her best not to cry, though tears willed themselves to come. She drew a deep breath and did her best to stop shaking.
The sheriff grabbed the boys by the ears and pressed them in her direction. “Miss Jewel, meet my two boys, William and Jacob. They’ve got a dozen or more friends nearby, I’ve no doubt.” He paused and looked around. “Might as well c’mon out. Miss Jewel will likely forgive you for the impromptu baptism if you ask nice and proper, but I wouldn’t hold to her sticking around very long if you don’t.”
From around every corner they came. Scraggly-looking boys, mostly, but three girls too. A ragtag lot of them, wearing clothing in sizes that made no sense to their bodies. The girls, pretty as they were, needed someone to tend to their matted hair. And whatever did they do for shoes? One of the girls—the one with the long, blond hair—wore a little locket around her neck, which she fingered as she gazed Rena’s way.
The children put Rena in mind of street urchins, though she never would have voiced that sentiment aloud. She took them in with a gaze—every last one of them—and the water incident slowly faded from her mind. All that mattered now were these precious children. Their darling faces shone with excitement. At least it looked like excitement. A couple of them, both girls, muttered something that sounded like an apology. The boys stood back, their arms crossed at their chests, and glowered.
“You think you’re ready for this?” The sheriff turned her way, a hint of panic in his eyes.
She nodded, reaching down and squeezing the excess water out of her dress. It dribbled onto the floor. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
An older woman in a flowered blue dress appeared in the opening leading to the hallway. She rushed Rena’s way, her hands clasped together over her chest. “Oh, you poor, sweet girl. Whatever have these little monsters done now?” She took one look at Rena’s wet attire and began to cluck her tongue at the children. They responded with more giggles.
