She pushed him away and approached the woman. “Is she at school? Is that where she is? Tell me. Tell me where my sister is.” Her voice cracked when she spoke. “Please, please, tell me.”
Mrs. Overson again put her arms around Em. Sobbing, Em buried her head in the woman’s shoulder. She shook from the tears that came and came. Years worth of sobs racked her body. Mrs. Overson quietly said, “I’m sorry—I’m so sorry” over and over as she patted her back and let her cry. Em felt weak when she finally stepped away. She was weary from dreaming the same dream over and over only to have it play out so differently than she had ever imagined.
Twice she tried to ask but could not get her voice to work. At last Caleb asked for her. “What happened?”
Mrs. Overson took Em’s hand and tried to lead her into the house, and this time she followed. “Sit down,” she said as they stepped into the living room. “I can tell you’re tired.”
Caleb found a spot on the sofa. Em slowly lowered herself and sat beside him. Then the woman stepped to a desk and pulled out a stick person and placed it in Em’s hand. “Would it be all right if I started at the beginning?”
Unable to look away from the figure in her hands, Em simply nodded her head.
Mrs. Overson sat in a chair across from them. “Like so many others, my husband and I lost our children to the fevers that swept through. Our house was much too quiet. No sounds of little feet, no laughter. When I saw the sign about the orphan train coming through, I ran to town to tell Walt. I thought he might not want an orphan, but he surprised me by saying it sounded like a fine plan.”
Mrs. Overson stood and looked out the window that faced town. “We were some of the first there the afternoon the train was due. We’d planned to find a boy, hoping he could help out around the place as he grew. But when the children walked on the stage, all I could see was this one perfect little girl. I knew many of the other couples at the station, and I was so afraid one of them would take her and work the little angel tirelessly on a farm.”
She brushed a tear from her cheek. “I should have looked at the others. Taken more in. I could have, but all I could see was this little girl. My heart loved her the moment I saw her.
“We acted quickly and took her off that horrid stage. Away from men like Max Welton and his kind. She screamed and cried, but we thought she was just afraid. Once we got her home, she started talking about Emmy.” Mrs. Overson looked at Em. “Talking about you. By the time Lucy was calm enough to tell us about you, the train was gone. We thought we could calm her down, that she would be all right with time. But she wasn’t. Two weeks later Walt took the train and asked about you at every stop. He was gone three weeks before returning home. We wrote letters then to the Aid Society. They said the files were confidential.”
Mrs. Overson knelt in front of Em. “Forgive us. We wanted to find you. To make it right.”
“I’ve never blamed you. Only myself for not being there with her. Tell me, was she happy? With time, was she happy?” Needing to draw strength from somewhere, Em reached for Caleb’s hand.
Mrs. Overson stood up and walked to the mantel. She took down a small framed likeness and walked back to Em and handed it to her. “Lucy was happy. She made everyone around her happy. I often called her my sunshine girl. She lit up a room. She lit up every room she was ever in.”
Em reverently held the image. There before her was the same little girl she had mothered and loved. The picture captured light in her eyes. Cradling the frame to her chest, Em pressed her lips in a tight line as she struggled with the reality that her baby sister was gone. Sorrow—deep, painful sorrow—filled her heart. The ache battled with the overwhelming joy she felt knowing her dear Lucy had lived a good life. She’d been able to tell just by looking at the picture that Mrs. Overson’s words were true. Lucy had been happy.
“What happened then?” Em managed to ask.
“For five blissful years we lived together. And in a way, you lived here too. Never did Lucy pray without mentioning you. She told us stories of your bravery and goodness. Fairy tales filled our house. Lucy told them, but first she would say, ‘Emmy told me this story and now I’ll tell it to you.’ She wrote to you too. She said you would be so proud of her for knowing how to read and write. Someday she vowed to give her letters to you. Always—always she believed you would come back. And she was right.”
“But I came too late,” Em said as she looked again at the beautiful girl in the picture. “I lived for the day I would hold her again. And now she is gone. I was too late.”
Caleb had been a silent observer until now. “But you came, and she knows you’re here. I know she knows. You came, Em. It was all you could do.”
“What took her?” Em asked.
“Sickness. Always sickness. It came quickly and took her in her sleep. I was beside her when she passed. Never has a child looked more peaceful. It was Walt and I who were in pain. Not Lucy. Again the house was so quiet. But we never regretted taking her in. Losing her was so hard, but loving her had been so easy.”
Mrs. Overson walked to the door. “This house has been in our family for many years. Out back there is a white fence that borders our little resting place. Walt had a stone carved for Lucy’s grave. Go and visit it. I know she would love your company. Come back though. I want to give you a few treasures. Little things I saved for you.”
Em nodded before silently walking out of the house and to the gravesite. Little stones and crosses were nestled close together beneath a lush green tree. Stones jutting from the ground begged to be read and remembered. Three little stones all held the same year. Nelda, Mabel, and Thomas. Next to them was Clement, who must have been a grandfather. Then came LaVern. Em guessed by the dates that she was a grandmother. She stopped when she read the next stone. “Lucy, Our Sunshine Girl.”
Em sat down next to Lucy’s grave. At first she just stared, and then she wept, and then she begged her sister for forgiveness for not coming sooner. “I wanted to come—I wanted it so badly. I’m sorry, Lucy. I’m sorry I missed so much.” In desperation, she said, “Forgive me, Lucy. For not being here.”
Then, laying herself next to the soft mound, she cried, “I love you, Lucy. I never stopped loving you.”
When the minutes had multiplied, Em finally sat her tired body back up. Caleb, who Em had not heard come outside, cleared his throat. “I was hoping I might have a word as well.”
Sniffling, Em said, “Of course. She would have wanted to meet you. I’m sorry I’m so emotional.”
“Don’t be. I told you how I cried when my brothers died. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He knelt by the grave and turned his attention to Lucy’s gravestone. “Hello, Lucy.” His voice was serious. “I’ve wanted to meet you. I’m sure you are someone awfully special. Having Em to raise you, how could you not be? I’m sorry we couldn’t come sooner. But I want to thank you for keeping Em going when life was hard for her. I’ve found a true friend in her and have you to thank.” He pulled a stray weed. “I like the name Sunshine Girl. I’ll think of you whenever I feel the sun’s warm rays.”
Rubbing his stubble, he went on, his voice thick with emotion. “My brothers are up there with you. Tell them their baby brother misses them and thinks of them often. Tell them I’m doing better now. That I’m ready to start living my life again. Tell them that I sat in the oak again and I found someone I can beat in competitions. Don’t worry about your sister. She may have cried enough to fill a rain barrel this week, but she’s strong. And she’s going to keep living too.”
He stood then and pulled Em to her feet. “I saw Walt Overson come home a half hour or so ago. When you’re ready, let’s go and meet him.”
Mr. and Mrs. Overson, or Walt and Olive, as they preferred to be called, invited Caleb and Em to stay with them. For two days they all talked of Lucy. Tears were shed, many tears. More than Em thought possible. But there was also laughter and joy.
“I’ve got to head back to Azure Springs,” Caleb said the eve
ning of their second night with the Oversons. “I’d like to stay longer, but I have an obligation to the town.”
“When do you leave?” Em asked, not ready to say goodbye.
“I leave tomorrow morning. What will you do?”
“I don’t know yet. I feel so close to Lucy here—it will be hard to go. I need to think. I’ve got to form a plan. I don’t know how, but I know I must make new goals for my future.”
Caleb brushed a hair from her face. “Come back to the Howells’. To Azure Springs.”
“I can’t live with them forever. I don’t know where I belong,” Em said, eyes downcast. “This was my plan—to be here with Lucy—and now I have no course to follow.”
“You will find a way. If I know anything about you, it is that you will fight on.” Caleb looked away. His voice was shaky. “Will I see you again?”
Em waited to reply. She knew honesty was something Caleb valued and she wanted to give it to him. “I don’t know.”
“Tell me what your third question was going to be. Tell me before I leave.”
She shook her head. “No, it would do no good.”
“Write it down for me. Give me that gift before I leave.” His eyes pleaded with her. “Give me that.”
She nodded slowly. “I will. But don’t answer it. I don’t want to know, not anymore.”
Twenty
Passengers disembarked from the train. Soon it would be time for Caleb to board and travel back to Azure Springs. Em was by his side, her bonnet strings blowing in the wind. Oh, how he would miss her.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a note. “I’m not certain you’ll be able to tell what the words are. But if you can, it’s my third question and my farewell.”
He took the slip of paper and started unfolding it.
“Stop!” Em grabbed it back from him. “You can’t read it now. I don’t want you to.”
“Give that back.” He tried to take it from her.
She held it behind her back. “No. Not until you tell me you won’t read it until you’re gone.”
“Honestly, woman.” He laughed as he tried to go behind her and snatch it away.
Standing tall, she turned and started from the platform with the note in hand.
“Oh, all right. I won’t open it now. I’ll wait.”
Em walked right back to him and gave him the note. He was tempted to open it and read it just to spite her. But he resisted. This was time to say farewell, not tease her. He put the wrinkled note in his pocket.
“Will you write me? Tell me where you decide to go?” Caleb asked.
Em put her hands on the railing. “I’m learning. Even that note in your pocket took me most of the morning. I’m not sure my letters would make any sense.”
“You’ll get faster. Olive will help—I think she’d like to. At least tell me where you go,” Caleb said. “I would always wonder if you didn’t.”
“I’ll tell you as soon as I know. I think I’ll stay here a while. Read through Lucy’s letters, get to know the Oversons better. After that, I’ll try to find something else to work for. Something to dream about.”
Caleb nudged her under the chin. “I know you will find something. There is always Margaret’s.”
Em shook her head. “I think I need a fresh start.”
“It won’t be the same without you.” He took his finger and ran it across the bridge of her nose. “Your freckles are like your very own constellation.”
Em covered her nose.
He pulled her hand away. “Don’t hide them. I want to remember them.”
The whistle blew. It was time to load the train. Time for them to part ways and go on with their lives.
“You have to go?”
“I do. I told them I’d be back.” He bent down and kissed her freckled cheek. “Take care of yourself.”
He left her then—standing on the train platform.
As he looked back through the train window, he saw her leaning on the platform rail. The look on her face made him want to abandon his responsibility—to flee the train and go to her.
Instead, he settled into his seat and pulled her note from his pocket. The penmanship was similar to that of a child, but she had written it herself and he was proud of her. Several errors were slashed through and written again. With a little deciphering, he was able to untangle her message.
Dear Caleb,
Thank you for being a friend to me. It has meant a great deal. Often I have dreamed of a friend like you. Someone I could trust. Someone I could laugh with. I will treasure the gift of friendship you have given me. I promised to write my third question, and so I will. But please don’t answer it. I don’t think I want to know, not anymore.
My question is, could anyone ever find me beautiful? As a friend I had wanted to know what you thought. Do you think anyone could ever love me like that? I stood on so many platforms, and no one ever wanted me. I believed no one ever could. And then a gunshot wound brought me to Azure Springs and I started to believe. I found hope in Azure Springs. I don’t know what to think now or what to aim for.
Kiss Mae and Milly for me. Tell them a story.
Your friend,
Em
Resting his head against the seat, he closed his eyes. Could anyone find her beautiful? He did. Would someone else? Were there other men out there who would take the time to know her? If they did, they would discover she was beautiful. That she was the most perfect definition of beauty. Why hadn’t he told her? He knew why. She needed to come back on her own. Leave Beckford on her own. He prayed she would. Fervently, he prayed.
Olive and Walt were so kind, and it eased her mind a great deal knowing such loving people had surrounded Lucy. Each day Em read through Lucy’s letters and diary, and listened to stories Olive told. Each testified of a life of love and laughter. Happy tears often spilled from Em’s eyes as she read Lucy’s letters or heard the sweet stories of her life.
One day, weeks after arriving in Beckford, she pulled a small stack of envelopes from the desk and sat down to read a letter from Lucy.
Dear Emmy,
It has been three years since I last saw you. I am ten now. I feel much older, just like you said I would. I have grown at least a foot since you saw me, and soon I’ll be taller than Mama O. That is what I call Olive. She is good to me and loves me. I had planned to not love her, because you were my family. But I have come to love her. She says no one can be loved too much. I believe her. I wonder if anyone is loving you. I am and always will.
Mama O gave me a new dress for my birthday. It is yellow with white lace around the cuffs and collar. Every time I put it on, I think of you. The color reminds me of your hair. I think of your stories and of princesses. I know I am ten now and too big to believe your stories, but I love them and when I miss you, I think of them. It’s a beautiful dress and I know you would love it.
Helen is coming this afternoon. She lives on Oak Street too and is my best friend. I have chores to do first and I want to get them done. When she comes, we are going to read up in the tree.
Love,
Lucy
Setting the letter aside, she wondered if she was living now. Summer was swiftly turning to fall. Em felt a pull inside her, something urging her to do more with her life. Needing a purpose, something to work for. She became antsy and restless. But if she left, would she still feel Lucy close to her like she did in this home?
“I’m grateful for the love you showed Lucy. And to you for welcoming me into your home,” Em said to Olive that night.
“But now you must go and live your life,” Olive said, finishing her thought for her.
“I owe it to Lucy to live. I believe she would want me to. I prayed so hard she was having a good life while we were apart—and she was. Now I think she is telling me I need to do the same.” Em stood and ran her hand along the bed that had been Lucy’s. “I only wish I knew what to do next.”
“Why not return to Azure Springs? I saw the way Caleb looked at y
ou. I figure by now he is missing you sorely.” Olive crinkled her nose in a delightful smile. “If I were you and had a man like that looking at me the way he looked at you, I wouldn’t put so much distance between us. What’s keeping the two of you apart?”
“I don’t know that we could ever be more than mere friends,” Em said.
“There are others there that love you too. Caleb mentioned a family that took you in.”
Loved her too. Could Olive really believe that Caleb loved her? “There are others. The Howells have two little girls. They remind me of Lucy when she was little. I miss them, but I am afraid of going back. I haven’t even written any of them. I don’t know if I should return. What if Caleb doesn’t love me? What if he loves another by now? Someday he will. I don’t think I could watch that.”
“But what if he does love you and you never go back? How will you ever truly live if you are too afraid to be where you need to be?” Olive smiled. “Sometimes we have to risk the pain.”
“I want to be brave. I really do.”
“You’re braver than you think you are. We’ll miss you when you’re gone. You have been an answered prayer. It’s been like having Lucy back for a little while.”
“I feel so close to her here. I can almost imagine her growing up.”
“You will always be welcome here. Always.”
Two days later, Olive and Em stood side by side filling Em’s carpetbag. “Wait a moment,” Olive said when Em was about to buckle the latch.
Olive left the room for a moment and returned with a doll tucked under her arm. “Lucy loved this doll. She played with it for hours and hours, brushing her hair and dressing her. They had tea parties together and went for walks. Take her with you.”
“This was Lucy’s doll,” Em said, touching the doll’s smooth face. “It’s beautiful. I can’t take it.”
“I insist. I know she would want you to have her. Consider it a gift from Lucy.”
Em took the doll. She patted its little head and planted a kiss on its rosy face. “Thank you, Olive. For everything. Thank you for loving Lucy.”
The Hope of Azure Springs Page 24