Maelle frowned. “What?”
“I heard ’em, Maelle. The ladies talkin’. They said ya’d be better off in the country, away from the city an’ all the fightin’. They said—”
Mattie’s voice rose in volume. Maelle put her hand over his mouth to stop his words. “Hush, Mattie. No one’s goin’ ta send me away.”
Mattie’s head bobbed up and down, making the cot creak. “On a train. I heard ’em say so.” He whispered, but his tone was shrill with near hysteria.
Maelle wrapped Mattie in her arms as she lay back down. She stroked his tousled hair, thinking about what he’d said. Sent away on a train . . . Her heart pounded as she realized Mattie could be telling the truth. She’d heard the others talk about trains that carried orphans to western states. Was it possible Miss Agnes would send her to the West, away from Mattie and Molly? Tears gathered in her eyes, but she blinked to push them away.
She’d promised Da to look after the wee ones—how could she do that if she was far away? The more she thought about it, the more frantic she became. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep until she’d spoken with Miss Agnes.
She tipped her ear toward Mattie. His even breathing told her he’d drifted off to sleep. She eased out of the cot, slipping the pillow down for Mattie to snuggle against. On stealthy feet, she crept to the door, opened it wide enough to allow herself to slip through, then closed it behind her without a sound.
In less than a minute she stood breathlessly outside Miss Agnes’s office door, her heart pounding so hard she was sure it would break through her chest. The woman’s eyes widened as Maelle stepped into the room. She put down a pen and fixed her with an unsmiling look. “Michael Gallagher, you should long be asleep. Why are you prowling the hallways at this hour?”
Maelle dashed forward and grabbed the edge of the desk with both hands. “Mum, will ya be sendin’ me away?”
Miss Agnes leaned back sharply, her chair creaking in protest.
“Me brother said it’s so. I told him he need na worry, that ya surely wouldn’t be makin’ me go away. But I couldna sleep.” Maelle held her breath, waiting for Miss Agnes to assure her Mattie was mistaken.
But the woman sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. “Ah, that Mattie . . . Such a bright lad. He misses little, that one. . . .” She opened her eyes and looked steadily at Maelle. “Although I do not like to make announcements until the time of departure, it is true. I plan to send you on the next train. It leaves for Missouri in a few weeks.”
Maelle’s knees went weak. She slid into the sturdy seat of a nearby chair while clinging to the edge of the desk for support. “But . . . but . . . I canna be leavin’ me brother an’ sister.”
Miss Agnes rose and came around the desk, knelt, and placed her hand on Maelle’s knee. “You’re all going—you, Mattie, and Molly. None will be left behind.”
Maelle shrank into the seat, relief nearly toppling her. “You said . . . Missouri?”
“That’s right. A western state with many opportunities for a bright lad like you. Families there are eager for children.” For a moment, the woman’s eyes seemed to dim, her face pinching into a pained expression that frightened Maelle. But then she relaxed her expression. “I worry for you here, Michael. The fighting . . .”
Maelle touched her lip, wincing. “I do na like the fightin’, and I would na fight if I had no reason. The others, they bother Mattie, an’ they try to take me things.”
Miss Agnes tipped her head. “You mean the bag you brought?”
Maelle nodded, scowling as she remembered tussling for the bag. “Those things’re mine. Ma treasured ’em. Da saved ’em from bein’ turned to char. I can’t be losin’ ’em to some dirty orphans.” She spat the last words.
Miss Agnes clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Michael, you mustn’t speak that way. You’ve changed, my boy. This is why I want you to go west. You’re a good boy, but the city is turning you into one like so many others who fight and scrabble for survival. You’re far too fine a boy to be allowed to go that cynical pathway. I believe better things await you out west.”
So sending her away wasn’t a punishment? It was a reward? Pride welled in her chest. She stood. “I thank ya, mum. If I go, I’ll do me best to be a better . . . boy.” She hesitated. “An’ ya’re sure Mattie an’ Molly will be comin’, too?”
That odd look returned to the woman’s eyes, but she nodded. “Yes, Mattie and Molly will go west, too.”
Maelle stuck out her hand. “We’ll go then, mum, an’ gladly. Together, we’ll find our better things in the West.”
Grand Central Depot, New York City
May, 1886
Maelle planted a kiss on Molly’s plump cheek, unable to hold her sister close enough. How she had missed the little dumpling in the weeks at the orphans’ home! But Maelle had been allowed to carry Molly to the train station. Maelle was thrilled to have her sister back in her arms, and she determined that was where Molly would stay the whole journey to Missouri. She’d never let anyone take Molly from her again.
Molly looked so sweet in a lacy white dress and matching bonnet. All the children had been given new clothes this morning for their journey. Maelle had come close to divulging her secret when she’d seen the lovely frocks being offered to the girls. Wool dresses with bows and ruffles and matching capes . . . Oh, how Maelle would love to own even one such beautiful dress!
But instead she’d been issued a white shirt, brown wool trousers, and a matching jacket. She and Mattie had gotten haircuts, too, and it had taken all of her strength to keep from shedding tears at the loss of her hair again. Would she ever be able to grow back the tumbling curls Da had so admired? At least a little billed tweed cap covered her shorn head, hiding her shame.
With pudgy fingers, Molly tugged at the tag pinned to Maelle’s jacket front.
“No, no, sister,” Maelle scolded, shifting the baby’s fingers away. “The tag must be stayin’ in place or our new parents won’t be knowin’ us.”
Tags crinkled on every child’s chest. Miss Agnes had told the twenty-six children who were boarding the train that they would journey four days and three nights, and they must keep their tags intact. Maelle thought it foolish to put the numbered tags on so soon. She hoped she could keep little Molly from tearing loose not only her own tag but Maelle’s and Mattie’s, as well. The year-old baby considered everything a play toy.
“Michael!” Mattie charged across the station’s marble floor and skidded to a stop in front of his sister. He swung their bag in excitement, his eyes wide and glowing. “Did ya see the train?
It’s black an’ shiny, with so much smoke comin’ from a gray chimney. Did ya see it?”
“Mattie, ya’ve already scuffed yer new shoes,” Maelle chided. “An’ yer tag is loose. It’s settlin’ down ya must be or we’ll never get ya to Missouri in good form.”
Mattie looked down at the black boots he’d been given only that morning, his face falling as he noticed the dull scuffs across the toes. “Do ya think our new folks will na take me with scuffed shoes?”
The worry in his voice pinched Maelle’s conscience. He was just a wee boy, excited at the prospect of a train ride. She shouldn’t be so harsh. “Of course our new folks won’t be thinkin’ the less of ya just because of scuffed toes.” She took heart when his smile returned. “But all the same, we must be stayin’ as nice as we can. I’ll have enough keepin’ Molly neat. Can ya mind yer own manners?”
Mattie beamed. “For sure, I can.”
“Good.”
“Children! Children, gather close!” Miss Agnes raised her arms and gestured to the milling throng. The children, some with babies bouncing in their arms and some with bags bumping against their knees, formed a snug circle in front of Miss Agnes. Maelle kept a firm grip on Molly, who leaned forward and tried to grab the hair bow of a little girl in front of her.
“Children, this is Miss Esther.” Miss Agnes put her arm around the shoulders of a thin, bespectacled wom
an with a long face and wide mouth. “She will be your escort to Missouri. She has already visited Severy, informed the town of your coming, and knows of several families eager to meet you and make you their own.”
Cheers went up from several children, and Mattie and Maelle exchanged smiles of joyful anticipation.
“I trust you will obey Miss Esther on the journey and will show all the people on board what wonderful children you are.” Tears sparkled in the woman’s eyes as she finished. “Now, let us have a word of prayer before you board the train.”
She closed her eyes, folding her hands in front of her. All the children followed suit, except Maelle, who needed to keep her eyes on Molly.
“Bless these children, Lord, as they venture forth. Keep your hand of safety over them, and lead them to the parents who will nurture them and raise them in the knowledge of your love. Amen.”
“Amen,” echoed the children.
Miss Esther clapped her hands. “Form a line now, children! Quickly!”
With giggles and shoves, the children fell into a makeshift line with Maelle and Mattie somewhere in the middle. Maelle whispered, “Get behind me, Mattie, an’ hold on ta my jacket.”
Molly’s wiggling form in her arms and Mattie’s hand on her back reminded Maelle of the night they had escaped the tenement. A wave of homesickness for Ma and Da hit her so hard tears spilled from her eyes. But she blinked bravely and marched in line with the others to their waiting railroad car. Boys do na cry, she told herself fiercely. Yet she heard sniffling behind her, and even without looking she knew the sound came from Mattie.
Peeking over her shoulder, she gave her little brother a quavery smile. “Do na cry, Mattie. Do ya na be rememberin’ what Miss Agnes said? We’re goin’ to better things. . . .”
Severy, Missouri
May, 1886
Maelle stood on a raised platform at the front of the sanctuary of the Presbyterian church, flanked by Mattie and a chubby boy named Pat. A splash of color from a stained-glass window high and to her left fell across baby Molly’s head, highlighting the red curling wisps of her hair. Although her shoulders ached from her sister’s constant weight, she held Molly so she faced outward, her tag easily seen. Mattie fidgeted, standing on one foot, then the other. Maelle hoped he didn’t need to use the outhouse.
After four days of sitting on a hard bench, with only brief marches around the train at watering stops for exercise, it felt good to stand. Her heart pounded with hope, even as an odd worry pressed her chest. This was the moment for which they had waited—the moment of meeting their new parents. Before leaving the train to walk to the church, Maelle had asked Miss Esther if parents had already selected her, Mattie, and Molly, but Miss Esther’s reply had been less than satisfying.
Maelle retrieved the words from her memory. “You will all be cared for, Michael. That is what is important.” Then she had raised her shrill voice to address the entire car of children, cautioning them all to be on their best behavior since parents would not choose an ill-mannered child.
Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Mattie’s continued wiggling, and she gave him a light bump with her elbow to settle him down.
Now Miss Esther marched to the double doors at the front of the sanctuary and opened them wide, calling out, “We’re ready. You may come in.”
Maelle pasted a smile on her face and prayed Mattie was doing the same.
The pounding of feet on the wooden floor of the church vibrated through Maelle’s shoes and into her legs as couples poured into the sanctuary. She kept her smile in place as she searched faces, her heart pounding, wondering which of the couples entering the building—if any—had come for her, Mattie, and Molly.
A well-dressed couple approached, the woman’s eyes scanning tags. When her gaze fell on Molly’s, her face lit and she rushed forward. “Reginald, look! There she is—number twelve!”
Before Maelle could react, the woman snatched Molly from Maelle’s arms and held her out to the man. Mattie looked at Maelle, his eyes wide, and she shrugged in response. The woman exclaimed over Molly, touching the baby’s curls and smoothing her plump cheek with her fingers. The man leaned in close. Molly grasped his chin with her dimpled hand, and he and the woman laughed.
“Oh, Reginald, look at her!” The woman beamed up at her husband. “As red-haired and green-eyed as my mother. Oh, she’s just as I imagined her to be!”
Maelle carefully examined the couple. Older than Da and Ma, and wearing fancier clothes than she’d ever seen, they seemed nice enough. Though not as pretty as Ma, the woman’s face was pleasant, her blue eyes shining. The man had thick whiskers growing on both sides of his face leading to a mustache that grew over his upper lip. At first glance, the facial hair gave him a gruff appearance, but when Maelle looked into his eyes, she saw a tenderness there. Surely they would be loving parents.
The woman kissed Molly’s cheek, and finally her gaze drifted to Maelle. She flashed a quick smile. Then the man put his hand on the woman’s back and they turned toward the front doors. Molly blinked at Maelle over the woman’s shoulder.
Maelle picked up their bag and took Mattie’s hand. “C’mon, then.” They followed the couple.
Halfway to the door, the man glanced back, and his brows came down. “Boys, you go back to the stage.”
Maelle and Mattie exchanged startled looks.
The woman stopped, turning to face the children. Molly leaned toward Maelle, reaching to be held. Maelle dropped the bag and stretched her arms toward her baby sister. But the woman pulled Molly against her shoulder. Molly began to cry.
“Take the baby outside, Rebecca,” the man said, and his wife swept toward the doors while soothing Molly, who continued to wail. When Maelle tried to follow, the man placed his hand against her chest. “No, boy. You stay here.”
“But . . . but . . .” Maelle swallowed, her heart pounding so hard she could hardly catch her breath. “That’s me sister she’s takin’.”
“We are adopting the baby.” Though firm, his voice was not unkind. He started to turn away, but Mattie jumped forward and gave the man a kick on the shin.
“You canna take me sister!” Mattie pulled his foot back, ready to kick again.
Miss Esther rushed over. “Matthew Gallagher, I’m ashamed of you!” She glowered at Mattie briefly, then turned to the man. “I apologize, Mr. Standler. I will explain the situation to the children. You and your wife have a safe journey home.”
The man nodded, sent one more frowning look at Mattie, and left the building. Miss Esther hauled Mattie to a corner, where she shook her finger under his nose and scolded. Maelle took advantage of the moment to snatch up her bag and run after the couple.
She slid to a stop in the sunny churchyard, frantically looking both right and left. She spotted the man climbing into a fancy enclosed carriage. Dashing across the grass with the bag banging against her leg, she cried, “Wait! Mister, please wait!”
The man folded his arms as she came to a panting halt beside the carriage. “Young man, I am sorry, but my wife and I are only adopting the baby.”
Tears stung behind Maelle’s nose. Although she had considered begging them to take her, the look on his face immediately silenced her pleas. Instead, she drew a deep breath and made a request she hoped would be honored. “Please, sir, can I kiss me sister good-bye?”
For long moments the man stared down at her while she held her breath, silently pleading with her eyes. Finally he gestured toward the carriage with a sweep of his hand. Maelle pulled herself onto the little step leading to the carriage and leaned in. The woman kept hold of Molly’s waist, but Maelle hugged the baby as best she could and kissed both of her cheeks, forehead, and nose.
“Good-bye, Molly. I love ya, wee one.” Tears distorted her vision, and she jumped free of the carriage, determined not to let this couple see her break down. Her foot bumped the bag, and she spun toward the man. “Please, sir, one more minute?”
The man blew out an impatient br
eath, but he waited while Maelle flopped open the bag and removed the Bible. After slipping the photograph free, she held out the book.
“Will . . . will you take me family’s Bible . . . for Molly?”
The woman called through the door, “Take it, Reginald, and let us be off.”
Silently, the man took the Bible and then closed the door behind him with a snap. The driver brought the reins down across the backs of the horses, and the carriage rolled forward. Maelle remained in the churchyard until the carriage turned a corner and disappeared from sight.
She closed her eyes for a moment, willing the name to memory: Mr. Standler. Standler. Standler. Her chest ached so badly she feared her heart might be crushed. Molly . . . gone. And Mattie—
With a start, she realized she didn’t know what had happened to Mattie. Grabbing up her bag, she raced for the church, weaving between couples who were heading toward wagons, most with children in tow. Had Mattie been taken, too?
She careened through the door, and she nearly wilted with relief when she spotted Mattie in one of the wooden pews. He sat with his head bowed, tears creating rivers down his pale cheeks. She slid in beside him and dropped the bag in her lap.
“Miss Esther says nobody will be wantin’ me now that I kicked that man.”
Mattie’s sad words made Maelle’s chest ache even more. She feared he might be right. Unable to answer, she simply nodded.
“But I had to do somethin’. They took Molly away.” He squinched his eyes closed, and tears spurted. “Miss Esther . . . she let ’em take Molly away. We won’t be seein’ her again. Just like Ma an’ Da . . .”
Maelle swallowed her own tears. Reaching into the bag, she pulled out the photograph and pressed it into Mattie’s hands. “Ya hold on to this. Ya can look at Molly an’ Ma an’ Da whenever ya’re wantin’ to.”
Mattie held the picture in his limp fingers while tears continued to roll down his cheeks and plop onto his wool pants, leaving speckles behind. Maelle put her arm around his shoulders, blinking to keep her tears back. Crying wouldn’t change anything.
My Heart Remembers Page 3