by Lynn Landes
“I apologize, he won’t be a problem again,” she offers the tray back to the porter. “Just return these to the dining car and I’ll make sure he stays next to me.”
Donovan’s eyes drop to the boy who is looking at his shoes. He smothers a grin when he realizes the child just made a dollar.
“See that you do. You might want to offer him up first!” the porter snatches the tray and stomps down the hall.
Ms. Brown glances at the child behind Donovan, “I apologize, Sir.”
“No harm done,” Donovan steps aside and watches as she pats her gray hair, and glares at the child. “I told you to stay with the children. Any more of this nonsense and I’ll have to return you to the orphanage.” She grabs his arm roughly and carts him out of the cabin.
Donovan returns to his seat with a frown and glances at the hot cross bun. He eats it slowly, thinking about his wife Loren. It’s a shame they couldn’t have more children. She always wanted a large family, but the Lord had other plans.
“Offer him up first,” Donovan glowers and finishes his cinnamon bun. “No, child should go through that kind of humiliation.” The trip to Pennsylvania was interesting, to say the least. He was visiting the University of Pennsylvania to lecture on the importance of protecting against infectious diseases. As a graduate of the school and a practicing Veterinarian in Iowa, he was happy to return when they asked him to.
A whistle sounds, jarring him back to the moment. “First stop,” he reaches for his pocket watch and discovers its missing. Frowning, he pats his pockets and jumps up to check his jacket. His wallet is missing as well! Alarmed, he quickly searches his cabin before chuckling to himself.
“Well, I’ll be darned. That child needs to be taught what happens to thieves.” A determined glint appears in his eye as he makes his way through the train.
Chapter 12
“Lucas, sit up tall, don’t slouch,” Mrs. Brown snaps and jerks on the children, smoothing their clothes and attempting to remove another child’s hat. He evades her hands, and she sighs in exasperation.
“Fine, don’t get adopted, Tony. Remember to use your manners, make eye contact, don’t slouch and for goodness sake, don’t steal anything else,” she hisses before they are carted out in front of the group.
Donovan followed them from the train intending to give the child a piece of his mind but watching him stand and be poked and prodded does something to his heart. If he hadn’t been watching, he would’ve missed the moment the young woman kneels in front of him and lifts his chin. He crosses his eyes and pokes his tongue through his teeth, causing spittle to spray on her. She jumps back, almost falling on the ground.
Her squeal of outrage has Mrs. Brown jerking him from the stand.
“I’m so sorry, please, come meet Phillip,” Mrs. Brown jerks Tony from the stand. “Don’t move,” she hisses at him. As she moves away, the boy sticks his tongue out behind the woman’s back. Donovan is forced to cover a shout of laughter when he sees the child hold up a scarf, before stuffing it inside his jacket.
Donovan watches as the boy begins to work the train station. Mrs. Brown is too busy with the nine other children to notice Tony get up. He walks through the crowd taking what he can, and it forces Donovan to admit a growing respect for this child. Imagine what he could do if that could be directed, his heart whispers.
The next three stops are the same, each time the child causes the adoptees to flee either in horror or disgust. While Mrs. Brown is busy, he robs the patrons blind. Stealing cash, jewelry, and anything he can take of monetary value.
At the final stop before his, Donovan realizes that there are only three children left, including the boy. “Mr. Foster, your stop is next,” his porter informs him. “We will arrive in Iowa in the next hour.”
“We have a problem,” Donovan informs him. “I want to speak to the guardian of the orphans, Mrs. Brown. Alone.”
“Yes, sir.” The porter hurries away while Donovan thinks about the importance of what he’s about to do. What will Loren think? He smiles when he thinks of his bride of thirty-four years. She will love him.
Mrs. Brown enters, and it is clear from her pale expression that she’s expecting to be reprimanded or at the very least blamed for the robbery.
“Mr. Foster, let me…”
“Doctor Foster, at your service,” Donovan offers a hand, shocking the woman. “Please sit down.”
“Oh, thank you.” She sits quietly and waits for him to start.
“I’m sure the porter explained the situation to you, Mrs. Brown.”
“I’m so sorry, Dr. Foster, that he stole from you. Let me reassure that this will not happen again. He will be punished…”
“No, you misunderstand, Mrs. Brown. I want to adopt the child,” Donovan demands.
She stares at him for a moment and then frowns. “No, Dr. Foster. I have two other children…” Mrs. Brown tries to say.
“I don’t want the other children, I want him.” Donovan crosses his arms over his chest and sits back, staring at her.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. What are your intentions with the child?” Mrs. Brown asks.
“Intentions? I intend to raise him in a loving home and give him all the opportunities to be who the Lord intended him to be,” Donovan grins, and she responds to the joy in him.
“Dr. Foster, I don’t know what to say,” she hides a sigh of relief as she stares at him.
“Show me where to sign?” he insists. They spend the next fifteen minutes going through paperwork, and he gives them his name and address in Iowa. It surprises Donovan at how little it takes to adopt a child.
“Would you like to meet him before you sign?” she asks again.
“No. We’ve met. Though a few minutes alone before we arrive might be a good idea.”
“Absolutely. I’ll bring him to you.” She takes the papers and tucks them in her case and gives him a copy with the Sunshine logo and address on it. Then hurries from the room.
Donovan waits nervously and wonders how the child will react. “Here we are,” Mrs. Brown drags the child inside and drops one bag. “This is his bag, Dr. Foster. We give each child one change of clothes and we will check on you in one month to see how you are getting along. Good luck,” she hurries from the room, sliding the door shut behind her.
The child stares at his feet and waits. “My name is Doctor Donovan Foster.”
Nothing, no sound or movement from the child who continues staring at his feet. “I know you can talk, son, so why don’t you sit for a few minutes while we get to know each other.” He sits avoiding his eyes and keeps the hat low on his head.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
“Tony,” he whispers.
“That’s a fine name. How old are you?” he asks.
“Eight,” he whispers.
I’m fifty-six,” Donovan says.
“Wow!” he gasps and chances a glance up causing Donovan to laugh.
“I’m sure that sounds ancient to you. I’m taking you home to meet my wife, Loren. I promise you that I’ll keep you safe and give you a home with an education.”
“This was not part of my plan,” Tony sighs and the train whistle blows indicating the stop is approaching.
“I understand,” Donovan grins. “I’ll need my wallet back and the watch my bride gave me.” Donovan holds out his hand and waits for him to hand it over.
Tony opens his coat, drawing out the watch and the wallet and hands it over.
“Thank you.” Donovan opens the wallet and checks for his cash, surprised to find it still inside. He tucks the watch and wallet away and smiles. “No more stealing. You won’t have to do that anymore.” Donovan holds out his hand and Tony looks at it before staring at him.
Trust is earned, and Donovan waits patiently until the child takes his hand. Slowly he grips Dr. Donovan Foster’s hand and they walk through the train to a waiting carriage.
Chapter 13
Jordan looks up from the ledgers in
front of her and is surprised to see Mark standing in the doorway holding a file.
“Mark? What are you doing here?” she asks.
“I still work for you, don’t I?” he huffs as he walks into the room and sits across the desk from her. He glances around Johan’s office and frowns, remembering the past and the warning in his letter.
“Of course, but it’s Saturday,” she sighs and stares out the window into the garden courtyard. “I hate fighting with you and Felecia,” she sniffs back tears.
“You know we love you and only want what’s best for you,” he says intently.
“I know that’s what you think, Mark, but…”
He sighs, dropping the file in front of her and cutting off her sentence.
“You are a very stubborn woman, Jordan. There is no need for you to come back to the office. You are out of time. The bills are due, the collectors are all demanding immediate payment. Most of the workers have left. There is no business to go back to.”
Jordan pales and looks at the impassive look on his face. “I see,” she whispers and picks up the folder.
“I wish you had seen sooner,” he leans forward. “The offer inside is more than generous. Like Johan said, sell the design, and take care of yourself. Barnaby Steel offered jobs for all the displaced workers, plus bonuses for those who sign on immediately. Most of them signed. If you sign by the first of the month, he will give you a bonus as well. It’s all spelled out for you.”
“I’d like to read through it over the weekend and have my lawyer look it over. I will meet with Orson at our office Monday morning. Will you go with me?” she asks softly.
Mark sighs in relief and reaches for her hands across the desk. “You don’t have to ask that. I’m on your side,” he smiles. “Jordan, it’s the right decision for everyone involved and you will be free to …”
Jordan pulls back and laughs harshly. “Free? Now you sound like Orson.”
“I’m sorry, but with time you will come to see that this is the right thing to do.” He leaves quietly, and she sighs, dropping her head to the desk, praying for some sign that this is the right path to follow.
Chapter 14
Grace Mill Farm
Clearfield, Pennsylvania
Donovan Foster glances at the child sleeping on the seat of the carriage. “Poor lad is exhausted,” he smiles when he sees the sign for his family farm. “Grace Mill Farm,” the carriage turns and rumbles down the long dirt road towards the family home.
Tony jumps awake, startled by the turn, and quickly checks his hat, pulling it down over his face.
Donovan looks out the window and his heart sighs, home. “Welcome to Grace Mill Farm, Tony. My wife Loren will meet us, and we will have some of the best food in the county. She’s an amazing cook. I hope you're hungry.”
Tony dares a look but doesn’t speak. His eyes widen in surprise at the size of the three-story red brick house with a wraparound porch and matching barn. Donovan smiles at his obvious shock.
“I’ll take you down to the barn to see the animals after dinner,” he says as the carriage slows to a stop. “Do you like animals?” he asks.
“I don’t know any,” Tony replies and allows him to help him from the wagon. When he sets him on his feet, the child hisses and limps a bit before straightening back up.
The screen door slams, causing Donovan to turn with a smile. He hurries to greet his wife and leaves Tony standing by the carriage holding his little bag.
“Your home! I thought you said Sunday. It’s Saturday!” a female voice calls, and he sweeps her up in a big kiss and hug.
“I’ve missed you terribly,” Donovan laughs and sets her on her feet. Staring into her blue eyes, he watches as she tries to straighten her blonde hair.
“I doubt that,” she teases.
“Loren, I have a surprise.” Donovan takes her hands in his and whispers, “trust me.”
“Okay, you're scaring me,” she replies, only to gasp when he steps to the side.
“Loren, I’d like to introduce you to Tony. Tony this is my wife, Loren.”
Loren’s eyes trail over the child and she smiles, “Welcome to our home, Tony,” when she steps towards him, Tony backs up against the carriage. Loren’s eyes jump to her husband in confusion, but before anyone can say anything, a massive black and white dog comes lumbering around the side of the house.
Tony presses back against the carriage and turns as if he’s about to run, but Donovan hurries to stop him. “It’s okay, Tony, this is our dog, Saint.”
Saint starts wiggling the moment he sees and recognizes his owner. He drops to the ground at Donovan’s feet and rolls over for belly rubs. Tony stares in awe of him.
“Are you sure it’s a dog? It looks like a horse,” he whispers.
Loren laughs and calls Saint, “He eats like a horse too. Saint is a Great Dane. He weighs more than you, at over a hundred pounds.”
“Speaking of food, I’m starved,” Donovan suggests to his wife and she nods.
“You eat like a horse too,” she teases, “let’s get inside and clean up, then we will eat lunch.”
Tony follows slowly and stops at the porch. Saint sniffs him and sits beside him, waiting for him to make up his mind.
“You should talk first,” Tony says in a soft voice. “In case I have to go back. I’ll wait out here,” he sits on the porch while Saint trots up beside him, sniffs the child before stretching out on a large canvas bed.
“I don’t understand,” Loren says and looks at her husband.
“We’ll be right back,” Donovan grabs her hand and guides her inside the house.
The moment they enter the house, she whirls on her husband. “What’s going on?”
“I can explain,” Donovan sighs, this is harder than he thought.
“Donovan Foster, you tell me what’s going on right this instant,” she pokes him in the chest.
“He’s ours,” he snaps, “I mean, I adopted him. I was on the Orphan train and, well, I adopted him.”
“What?” Loren’s mouth drops open in shock and her eyes well with tears. “The orphan train?”
“He’s around eight, I think. Loren,” he cups her face in his hands and stares into her eyes. “I can’t explain it, exactly, but my heart knew he was meant for our family. Please, tell me you aren’t mad?”
A tear streaks down her cheek and she sniffs, “I’m stunned, Donovan, not mad. What do you know about him? His family? His past?”
“One thing at a time, love.” He kisses her softly, “Can we keep him?” he asks.
Loren laughs, “Tony isn’t another stray you’ve brought home, Donovan.”
“I know that, woman!” he grumbles. “We have one month before they come for a home visit. You don’t have to decide right away, but I think we should put his mind at ease, don’t you?”
“One month?” Loren nods, “We need to make sure Tony understands.”
They walk together out to the porch and they are stunned to find him sitting on Saint’s bed with his massive head in his lap. The child is talking softly to the dog and scratching his chin, and Saint is in heaven. He stretches, and Tony’s childish laughter fills the porch, and Loren’s heart falls.
“I’ve missed that,” she whispers. Donovan kisses her head and claps his hands.
“Tony, we’ve decided to give this a test run. For one month you will live with us, and at the end of that month, if you want to go back to the orphanage, the choice will be yours. They are coming for a visit, and if you aren’t happy, you can leave. What do you say?”
Tony listens, keeping his hat down low over his face. He nods his head, “Yes, Sir, that sounds good.”
“Wonderful,” Loren nods. “Let’s get you cleaned up and we can eat. Ryder is coming for the weekend,” she announces, and Donovan grins.
“Good, I haven’t seen him in weeks. I’ll get the carriage and horses put away, Tony you go with Miss Loren, and clean up for lunch.”
Loren watches him go and
turns to Tony. She holds out a hand, “Shall we?”
“I can wash myself,” Tony grumbles and scrambles to his feet.
“I’m sure that you can. I’ll leave you to your privacy,” she says, but Saint decides he doesn’t want Tony to leave and rolls over, knocking the child to the porch and laying on top of him.
Tony’s startled yelp and following laughter has Loren laughing and hurrying to pull Saint off the child. “I’m so sorry, Tony. Saint! No, get off him,” she tugs and the mountain of a dog moves allowing him to stand up.
Loren grabs Tony’s hand and shoves Saint away, only to yelp in shock. Long dark curls cover Tony’s shoulders, and neither one moves for a second. The child shouts and whirls, desperate to find her hat and attempts to shove it back on her head with trembling hands.
“Stop.” Loren drops to her knees next to the child and has to shove Saint back when he senses her fear. “Saint, down!” He drops immediately, responding to the command in her voice. “Stay,” she points at the dog, who drops his head to his paws and whines softly.
Loren stares at the child who froze, thinking the commands were directed at her. “Let’s start over, shall we?” Loren says softly. “What is your real name?”
“Erin,” she whispers, daring to look up at the kind woman.
“Erin, you are safe with us,” she replies and offers her a hand. The moment Erin grips her hand, she sobs, and Loren pulls her into her lap and rocks her gently. Saint rushes over to help and circles them, fretting.
Donovan walks onto the porch and finds the dog blocking his view, but he hears his wife whispering promises. Saint moves back and Donovan stares in shock at the riot of dark curls framing the bright blue eyes of a beautiful little girl.
“He’s… a… she?” he gapes in shock. “I mean Tony’s a girl?” he shouts, and Loren laughs through her tears.
“My name is Erin,” the child says proudly. “Tony’s my best friend,” her blue eyes fill with tears and she burrows in Loren’s embrace and starts to cry again.