Sister Rose tsked when she entered the nursery. “Oh my, another one? Is it a boy or a girl?” Rose slipped a clean shirt over little Francy’s head.
Five-year-old Anna stopped tracing on the slate and scampered over to see the baby. “Who’s baby?”
“The Good Lord’s, child.”
Josephine laid the baby on its back and unwound the blanket around it. A thin onion-skin paper fluttered to the floor and Anna bent and picked it up. A silver locket and a small rag doll were the only other items with the child.
At the feel of the cool air on its body the little mite balled up its fists and howled.
“Hmmm! Good lungs!” Rose commented, handing Francy two wooden blocks.
Josephine reached for a dry diaper. “Girl,” she pronounced in the middle of the procedure. “There now!” She cooed as she wrapped the blanket tightly around the little tike once more. “All done, and we’ll get you a nice warm bottle of milk. How will that be? Hmmm?”
“Here’s her letter.” Anna held the paper up to Sister Josephine.
“I’ll go get Mother Superior while you get her a bottle,” Rose said.
Josephine looked down at Anna. “Thank you, child. I’m going to the kitchen for just a moment. I’ll be right back and you can help me feed the baby. Mean time, watch Francy like a big girl.”
Mother Superior and Sister Rose entered the nursery just as she was settling back down with the new little one and showing Anna how to hold the bottle.
Smoothing one palm down her habit, Mother Superior held out her hand for the letter. She scanned it and then lifted her head, eyes rounding. “We need to get this child on the next Baby Train. That’s in two days. See to the task of outfitting her. I will look through our records for a suitable family.”
1
Shiloh, Oregon. April, 1887
Victoria Snyder gasped and snatched the newspaper closer to her face. “Oh! Today of all days!” How had she missed seeing the ad until just now?
Mama rushed into the dining room, her hair still in rag curls. “What is it, Victoria? I thought I heard you talking to someone?”
Victoria schooled her features, carefully folded the paper and set it aside. Wedding planning. That’s what’s kept me from noticing it. The last thing Mama needed to worry about on her wedding day was a couple more needy children. “It’ll keep, Mama.”
She stood and placed a kiss on Mama’s cheek, hoping the wild pounding of her heart could not be heard. In her own ears it sounded like the thunder of a wild stampede. Her mind rushed over today’s schedule. Would she make it to the train station on time? It would be tight, but she could make it. She had to make it.
She patted Mama’s shoulders forcing her thoughts back to the present task. “You are going to be the most beautiful bride in Oregon today!”
Mama chuckled. “Well, not with these things in my hair! Come help me take them out, would you? My arms get dreadfully tired, trying to untie them all.”
Victoria grinned, delighted by her mother’s excitement. She would think about getting to the train station, after the wedding. Right now she wanted to revel in Mama’s giddiness. “Dr. Martin will be happy to take you as his wife any way he can get you! I think you should walk down the aisle with all those rags in your hair, just to see if he really loves you, or not!”
“Oh, Posh!” Mama waved away her joke with a flick of her wrist.
Victoria covered her mouth as Mama grinned and rushed from the room in a flurry of frilled petticoats. She couldn’t stop a little giggle at the thought of Mama actually showing up at the church with all her rag curls still in. Wouldn’t that give Julia Nickerson something to talk about at the next quilting bee!
Lifting the skirt of her new golden-yellow gown, she followed Mama to help her finish getting ready. Entering the room, she glanced around and smoothed a hand down the front of her dress. Everywhere she looked Mama’s touch was evident. From the colorful, hand-appliquéd floral quilt they’d sewn the year Victoria turned thirteen, to the braided rugs they’d just finished last summer – everything in this room would be a reminder of Mama. She fiddled with the pendant at her throat, unanticipated dread threatening to rob her of today’s joy. After the wedding, Mama and Dr. Martin were going on a wedding tour to San Francisco, California. And when Mama got back she would move into Dr. Martin’s little home above his office. Mama’s trunks were already packed and waiting by the door.
Mama caught her eye in the mirror. “I’ll just be across town, Ria.”
Victoria forced a smile. “Of course you will. It’ll just be different. I’ll get used to it. And,” she shook her finger, “don’t think you are getting away from me, because I plan to visit you! Often!”
Mama chuckled. “You’d better, or I will come after you with my rolling pin! Now,” she patted her hair and arched her dark eyebrows.
Victoria stepped up behind her and deftly began pulling the rags from her hair. She glanced up and compared their reflections. They were about as different as any two women could be. Mama’s dark hair and coffee colored eyes graced a heart-shaped face with a smooth, clear complexion. It amazed her that anyone in this town actually believed she was Clarice Snyder’s daughter. Even Papa had been blessed with dark hair and bronze skin.
Before Mama and Papa had moved to Shiloh they had lived in Nebraska. She could still vividly remember the taunts the children at school used to hurl at her. She swallowed and pressed away the memories. That was in the past. Still, she often wondered if she really did have vile blood running through her veins. Who were her people? Where had she come from?
“What are you thinking, honey?”
Victoria wrinkled her freckled nose at her red hair. “It’s amazing that anyone in this town believes I’m really your daughter.”
Mama’s features softened. She reached up and patted Victoria’s hand, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “You are as much my daughter as anyone of my own flesh and blood could ever have been, darling. The day the Good Lord brought you to Papa and me was the best day of our lives, and don’t you be forgetting it. Just because I’m marrying again and moving over to the doctor’s house, doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”
“I know.” Victoria made an effort to lift her shoulders and put a smile on her face. She would get through this. Mama certainly deserved this bit of happiness after all she’d been through.
Mama spun around on the stool and captured Victoria’s hands. “Honey, I know I’ve told you this before, but I want to remind you again. You are special. Just because your parents gave you up, doesn’t mean the Lord doesn’t have great plans for you. I can’t tell you the number of times that I’ve thanked the Lord for sending you to Papa and me.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “When Jesus took Papa home, I thought I wouldn’t be able to bear it, and you were such a source of strength to me.”
Victoria pressed a handkerchief into Mama’s hands, blinking back tears of her own. “Now, Mama. We can’t have you looking all puffy-eyed on your wedding day.”
Mama chuckled and dabbed at her tears. “Honey, I just don’t want you to feel like I’m abandoning you.”
Pulling her into a hug, Victoria rested her cheek atop the dark curls. “I know you aren’t. Things are just going to be different. It’ll just take a little while to adjust, is all. I’m so happy for you. And I’m really glad you are feeling so much better, lately. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you, too.” And that was the truth of it.
Mama patted her arm. “I’m not planning on skipping through the pearly gates anytime soon, dear. I’m afraid you are stuck with me for a good long while yet.”
Victoria chuckled. “Good! Now,” she set Mama away from her and spun her back towards the mirror, “we need to finish getting you ready. Sky Jordan said he would be here to get you at ten and it’s already a quarter past nine. We can’t have you late to your own wedding!” She removed the last few rags from Mama’s hair.
Grinning, Mama clasped a pearl necklace about her throat. “Doc s
aid he’d come for me himself, if I was even one minute late.”
“I can see him doing it, too.” Victoria plucked the wedding dress off the bed and gestured for Mama to stand. Settling the gorgeous champagne satin over Mama’s head, Victoria fluffed and fussed with the skirt until it lay in disciplined pleats over the voluminous petticoats. Stepping back she admired the ecru lace and pearls that graced the fitted bodice of the gown. “Oh Mama! You are so beautiful! Here.” She gestured to the stool in front of the dressing table again and Mama sat. Victoria bent and began fastening the tiny satin-covered buttons that lined the back of the dress.
Mama cleared her throat and fiddled with something on the dresser top. “Rocky got back home this week.”
Victoria’s fingers stilled, her heart shying like a stung mare. Resuming the buttoning, she carefully kept any hint of emotion from her voice. “I heard.”
“He stopped by Doc’s last night while Hannah and I were there. Doc asked him to walk me down the aisle. I was hoping he’d get back in time.”
“Before she went back to the orphanage last night, Hannah told me he was shot trying to help Jason apprehend a criminal.”
“Mmmm, but Doc says he’s going to be fine. It will just take a few weeks for him to fully recover the use of his arm.”
Victoria fastened the last button and stood. Her lips pressed together, she reached for the brush and styled Mama’s hair for the beautiful pearl combs. Nothing she said would keep the morning peaceful. Mama loved Rocky and had been gently pressuring Victoria in his direction for years – ever since Victoria had innocently proclaimed on her thirteenth birthday that she thought she loved him.
“Honey.” Mama waited until Victoria met her gaze in the mirror. “I would much rather have had the few years I had with Robert, than to have never known what it was like to love him at all. Only the Lord knows the future. Don’t rob yourself of happiness because you are afraid of what the future holds.”
Victoria snugged the last comb into a wave of dark hair and rested the circlet of the veil on Mama’s head, then bent and kissed Mama’s warm cheek. “Alright, I promise not to rob myself of future happiness.”
Mama arched a slim, dark brow.
Victoria gave her a cheeky smile, knowing she hadn’t promised what Mama really wanted to hear.
“Ria, you know good and well what I mean.”
Victoria sighed. “Mama, Rocky has not so much as ever even hinted that he thinks of me as more than a friend. But if he does, I promise you I will seriously consider him.”
A gleam of satisfaction leapt into Mama’s eyes and she nodded her acquiescence to Victoria’s promise.
There. Now Mama could go through the day with a light heart.
And it wasn’t like she was in any danger of having to follow through on her promise. Rocky was never going to pay attention to her in that way. So she would never have to worry about having a lawman for a husband – A lawman who could be killed in the line of duty anytime he went to work, or even stepped out his door to call in the dog.
And that would definitely ensure her future happiness.
ChristyAnne glared daggers at Jimmy Horn across the swaying train aisle. Big bully! She pressed her own half of an apple into Damera’s tiny hands and sat back, folding her arms. This time she would watch and make sure Mera got to eat it. Jimmy smirked, stuffed a huge bite of apple in his mouth and turned to look out the train window. Hope he chokes on it!
Mera tapped her arm. “Sissy, you can have yer apple. ’Sokay.”
ChristyAnne smiled and used the sleeve of her dress to wipe away Mera’s tears. “You eat it, Mera. ’S good for ya.” Her tummy rumbled and she coughed, hoping Mera hadn’t heard it. Raymond Thornton had taken Mera’s biscuit at breakfast, so she’d given hers to her. Least dumb ’ol Ray got picked at the last stop. Don’t havta worry none ’bout him no more.
She carefully wrapped the biscuit from tonight’s meal in a scrap of cloth she’d saved and stuffed it into the top of her small valise. She and Mera could share it later. There wouldn’t be any more food today and Mera always got hungry right before bedtime. A small snack usually helped her settle down and go to sleep. If they didn’t get picked today, they’d at least have a bit of something to calm Mera’s hungry tummy.
Since Jimmy was now busy drawing pictures in the dust on the seat in front of him she looked out her window. The train chuffed into a forest of tall trees that blocked out the sun and she could see her reflection pretty good in the dirty glass. She practiced her smile, the rhythmic chug of the engine in the background a monotonous reminder that they were moving farther and farther away from all they’d ever known. She adjusted her lips. Not too big a smile, but not too timid either. She’d tried big and timid both already. Those hadn’t worked for her. Well… She sighed. Maybe they had. Someone at every stop had wanted to take her home with them, but no one, so far, had wanted Mera too. And she refused to be separated from her sister.
Miss Nickerson, the woman who worked for The Children’s Aid Society, was getting desperate to find homes for the rest of them that were left. At the last stop, she’d made ChristyAnne go with an old woman and her husband who wanted a maid. ChristyAnne shuddered at the memory of that old woman dragging her out of the church by one arm while Mera screamed for her from Miss Nickerson’s arms. Mama had always told her if she couldn’t say anything nice not to say it at all, but the look on that woman’s face when she’d told her she would break all of her fine dishes, rub dirt into her floor and even poison her well if she didn’t take her little sister too, had almost been worth the whole ordeal.
ChristyAnne suppressed a giggle.
The woman’s expression had reminded her of the time Raymond Thornton put that big ol’ toad in the top of the lunch basket and it jumped out into Miss Nickerson’s lap, because she looked just like Miss Nickerson had that day. Her mouth had dropped open and she’d sputtered several indecipherable phrases, then promptly marched ChristyAnne back inside the church to announce that she’d changed her mind about taking her. Miss Nickerson had been beside herself, but ChristyAnne had never been more relieved than at that moment. She had simply pulled the distraught Mera into her arms and rested her cheek atop her head, holding on tight.
The train lurched over a rough section of track and the whistle sounded. ChristyAnne reached over and clasped Mera’s little hand. No one is going to separate us! Mera was all the family she had left in the whole wide world and nobody was going to take that from her.
The next stop was going to be the last on this trip. And if nobody picked them, ChristyAnne had determined that she and Mera would run away rather than go all the way back to New York. I’m big for ten. Lotsa people think I’m older. I can get a job and take care of us. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the glass. “I’m trying, Mama,” she whispered. I’m trying to take care of Damera like I promised you. But I miss you lots. Hot tears pressed at the backs of her lids, but she didn’t let them fall. She didn’t want Mera to see how worried she was, and Miss Nickerson would just tell her to toughen up if she saw the tears.
Maybe at the next stop there would be a family that would want them both. Maybe.
Rocky gingerly slipped his arm into his Sunday-best, black coat. Pain sizzled in jagged shards through his shoulder and down into his torso. He winced, closed his eyes and waited for the pain to pass. Thank you, Lord that I’m still here to feel this pain. It was the prayer he’d been repeating daily since his accident two weeks ago.
The scent of bacon and coffee wafted through his room. His stomach let loose with a rumble that could probably be heard in the next county.
Downstairs, someone knocked at the door and Dad answered it. “’Morning, Dad.” That was Sky’s voice – probably dropping off Brooke and Sierra, so Brooke could visit with Ma while Sky picked up the bride. Dad would be on his way out the door to head for the Sheriff’s office. With all of them busy with the wedding today, Dad had said he would cover things down at the jail a
nd to give Clarice and Doc his best wishes.
Rocky pulled a deep breath in through his nose and eased it out through his mouth. His tense muscles gave up some of their pull. So long as he didn’t move his right arm the pain was tolerable. Thankfully Ma had pressed his shirt and suit last night, so he hadn’t had to deal with ironing them this morning.
Using his left hand, he flipped his string-tie over one shoulder and fumbled to pull it around so he could tie it at the front.
Today he would have the honor of giving away Victoria’s mother. Doc Martin had asked him yesterday, as he’d examined his arm, if he would be willing to do it. Rocky had never felt so privileged. Clarice Snyder was pure gold – one of his favorite people ever.
Her daughter’s not so bad either. He grinned at that thought as he made an X from the two sides of the tie and tried to loop them together. His heart felt as light as Hannah Johnston’s biscuits. Yesterday, Clarice had granted him permission to call on her daughter. Victoria hadn’t been far from his thoughts recently – but especially since the accident. Yet the very reason for her occupying his thoughts, the fact that he’d almost lost his life, was the reason Victoria wouldn’t want anything to do with him. He was a lawman. And her father had been a lawman. One killed in the line of duty.
He sighed and gave up on the tie, heading downstairs to where Ma could help him with it. All he could do was lay his heart bare before Victoria and hope she didn’t trample it under her tiny booted heels. The irony in it all was that if he could get his hands on some nice horse-flesh and find suitable property in the area, he’d walk away from his tin star in a heartbeat. But he didn’t see that happening any time soon. His savings would just have to sit in the bank a little longer.
High Desert Haven (The Shepherd's Heart) Page 29