Fair Play

by Deeanne Gist

  She launched herself into his arms, sobbing, trying to tell him, but she was too upset, too distraught.

  “Are you hurt?”

  She shook her head.

  “Did those boys come back?”

  She shook her head again.

  “Then what?”

  “Jooooey.”

  He held her then, shushing her, stroking her hair, pressing his mouth against her neck in an effort to still her shakes.

  “We have to get married right away,” she finally managed.

  “Why? What’s happened?” He stiffened, then held her at arm’s length, searching her eyes. “Did those boys last month do more than—”

  “No, no. Nothing like that. It’s Joey.” She swiped her cheeks.

  “What’s happened?”

  “They gave him away.”

  “What? Who?”

  The tears started afresh. “Miss Addams. She gave him away. He’s gone. Gone. Some rich couple took one look at our precious Joey and just whisked him away like he was theirs. But he’s ours. Ours. Only, we have to be married if we want to keep him.”

  He looked toward the kindergarten cottage as if trying to sort it out. “Slow down, slow down. Let me make sure I understand. Someone has taken Joey in. Someone rich. Is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  He cursed. “All right. And you’re saying that if we get married, we can have him back?”

  “Yes.”

  “When do we need to get married?”

  “Right now.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Today?”

  She bit her lip. “Well, tomorrow might be okay.”

  He frowned. “Billy, if they’ve already taken him in, are you sure they’ll give him back?”

  Her eyes filled. “Of course they won’t. Who’d give up that sweet, sweet boy? But you’ll get him for me, won’t you?”

  His eyes became troubled.

  “Won’t you?” Her voice rose.

  “Who has him?”

  “I don’t know. Miss Addams won’t tell me. But you find people all the time. That’s what you do, right? Find people who are hiding?”

  “Are they hiding?”

  “Well, sort of. They won’t let Miss Addams give me their names, so they may as well be hiding.”

  Tucking her into his side, he steered her toward Hull House. “Let’s start with Miss Addams, then.”

  Billy sniffed. “She said we can’t have him back. Even if we were married. But I know you’ll get him. You’re not going to let anyone take our Joey off like that.”

  They reached the back section of Hull House.

  Setting Billy down on the outdoor steps leading to the kitchen, he joined her and took both her hands. “You know, he’s not really ours.”

  “We found him. We’ve been watching after him.”

  “That’s not exactly true. We found him, but the women at Hull House have been watching after him.”

  “Maybe technically. But not like I do. I’m up here with him every chance I get. Of course, we’ll have to start paying five cents a day for them to watch him while we work. At least until the fair is over.”

  He looked at her hands, then ran a thumb over her knuckles. “Billy, if this couple really has taken him as their own, and they’re of the wealthy set, then they’ll have the resources to keep us from taking him back. And it won’t matter who found him.”

  She yanked her hands out of his. “Are you saying you won’t go after him?”

  “Not until I talk with Miss Addams and get all the facts.”

  She crossed her arms. “Then go. Go talk to her. I’ll wait right here.”

  He looked up and down the alley. “Maybe you better wait in the kitchen.”

  “I don’t want to go in there. I’ll be okay. Go on.”

  Blowing out a breath, he stood. “I’ll be right back.”

  He stepped through the door. She hugged her legs, put her head down on her knees, and let the tears come. For she knew what was going to happen. What Miss Addams was going to say. And she was no longer sure Hunter would go after whoever it was who took Joey. And if he didn’t, all would be lost. For Joey could be anywhere. Anywhere.

  When the back door finally opened again, the tears had slowed to droplets.

  Sitting beside her, he scooped her up, pulled her into his lap, and hugged her tight. “I’m sorry, Billy girl.”

  “No.” She clutched his shirt with her fists.

  “I’m sorry. There’s nothing we can do. He belongs to that other family, love.”

  Pressing her face into his neck, she found she wasn’t out of tears after all. She sobbed. She wailed. She bawled.

  He rocked her. Kissed the top of her head. Patted her back. Shushed her.

  After she was spent, he still held her. The sun began its descent before she finally lifted her face. “I want to go home.”

  It was then she saw that he’d been crying, too.

  GIANT STRIDE28

  “Hunter shimmied up the maypole and replaced the ribbons with ropes, loosened a spinning mechanism, and turned the maypole into a giant stride.”

  CHAPTER

  33

  Billy sat on the edge of her bed and ran a hand across her dress from Marshall Field’s. The blue and eyelet candy-striped gown was bright and summery and feminine. She’d been planning to wear it to the playground’s opening for quite some time. She just hadn’t expected a cold lump to be where her heart had once been.

  Wiping her tears, she took a deep breath, then stuffed her handkerchief into her lacy sleeves and walked to the little oval mirror in her room. Beneath her swollen eyes and splotchy cheeks, a bright, pretty blue bow accented her collar, while another set off the lace ruffle running across her chest. She reached behind her, adjusting a third bow at the back of her skirt.

  She needed to put aside her grief for a few hours. On a rational level, she knew Joey wasn’t hers. Never had been. But it didn’t make her love him less, nor did it mend her heart. Still, the children had worked hard to prepare for today’s festivities. It was their big moment. She needed to be gay and cheerful.

  So, she’d lock her feelings inside for now and try her best to make it through the day without thinking of the tremendous loss Joey’s absence had caused.

  Picking up her hat, she placed it on her head and ran a long pin through its crown. She’d assumed Joey would always be there. Even if things didn’t work out with her and Hunter, she’d thought she could carry on her practice and stop in to see Joey whenever she wanted. On her terms, her time line, and Hull House’s pocketbook. How naive and selfish she’d been.

  She fingered the flowers decorating her hat’s rim. The pitiful sight made by the children who’d been creating cloth flowers in Derry’s building jumped into her mind. What if they came to the playground today? What would they think if they saw her wearing this hat?

  Removing the pin, she placed the hat back into its box, wondering if she’d ever be able to wear it or any other hat ever again. At least Joey wouldn’t be working in a sweatshop like that or on the street like Derry.

  With a deep breath, she locked her feelings away and headed downstairs where Hunter was waiting.

  Hunter couldn’t believe the line. It wrapped clear around the playground and was two and three children deep.

  Miss Addams had arranged for two police officers to be present in case there was trouble, but Hunter hoped their mere presence would curtail any mischief. He certainly didn’t want any of these youngsters to end up in that godawful jail.

  Billy rushed around, setting up an area for the sack races, giving instructions to the five-man brass band, following behind an old sea dog from the neighborhood who’d taught Hunter and the boys how to make sailors’ ladders and hammocks and who now inspected their work.

  She was just about the prettiest thing he’d ever seen in her seaside-looking gown. Its vertical stripes drew his eye to all the dips and swells, while a bow on her tail swished this way and that.

 
He’d expected her to bring up Joey again, but she hadn’t. Had instead chosen to grieve in private. He’d wanted to reassure her, comfort her, make the pain go away. But he could hardly think about it himself without his throat swelling up.

  The only good thing was, he knew she’d be willing to marry him. She’d all but proposed to him right there on the street. Of course, it was merely a means to an end, but he knew she had feelings for him. Strong feelings. And he sure had feelings for her. He just hadn’t been all that confident she’d be willing to follow him to Texas. He didn’t think giving up her male patients would be much of a hurdle. There were more than enough women who needed doctoring.

  But a city girl moving clear across the States to become a country gal, well, that was something else altogether. Still, maybe she’d figured out she could doctor anywhere, while he could only Ranger in one place.

  She smiled at something the old sea dog said and Hunter found himself smiling merely because she was. He slipped his hands into his pockets. He’d sent a wire to his mother asking for Grandma’s ring. The request would surprise her, but she’d do as he asked. He wondered how long it would be before it arrived.

  A dark cloud rolled in offering welcome relief from the treeless playground. He glanced at the awning Billy had had him construct in the L of the lot for the babies and the little ones who’d play in the sand bin. For today, at least, it looked like they wouldn’t be the only ones in the shade. He only hoped that cloud didn’t get too heavy.

  Some women from Hull House approached carrying baskets brimming with flowers of every color. They tried to get past the throng and to the gate, but the faces peeping through the net wiring with hungry impatience had yet to see them.

  Hunter headed in that direction. “Make way for the ladies, kids.”

  When the children saw the blooms, excited squeals and pointing fingers swept through the ranks. Opening the gates for the women, he shook his head. The children lived but ten blocks from a florist’s window. With the way they were carrying on, though, he figured they hadn’t been inside the shop. Made him wonder just how long it had been since they’d had their hands on flowers of any kind.

  A handful of boys couldn’t stand the wait any longer and began to scale the fence. Jogging to them, Hunter scooped one up and corralled the others. “It won’t be too long yet, boys, but everybody’s got to wait in line.”

  He deposited them outside the gate, only to discover a rascal on the other end of the grounds had dug a hole under the fence and by dint of squeezing shimmied under. Half a dozen more followed and headed straight for the swings.

  The other children reacted with fervor, whistling, jostling the fence, and once again scaling it.

  Instead of capturing them, he headed toward Billy. “We’re going to have a riot on our hands, Billy girl, if we don’t open that gate in a hurry.”

  Biting her lip, she glanced at her watch. “It’s still early.”

  He adjusted his hat. “I’m telling you. I’ve quelled a lot of uprisings and this one’s just about to erupt.”

  “You think it’s okay to open early, then?”

  “It’ll be the first time I’ve ever given in to a mob, but seeing as it’s children we’re dealing with, there’s not a lot I can do.” He held out his elbow. “Would you like to do the honors?”

  Taking his arm, she smiled. “I would.”

  Maybe today would be good for her, he thought. He sure hoped so.

  The two of them threw open the gates and the scrambling mass rushed in. Swings were tackled. Rope ladders ascended. Seesaws mounted. Log heaps climbed.

  The brass band struck up an enthusiastic, if not harmonious tune. Those who didn’t reach the equipment first picked up balls and jump ropes. Mothers with mud-coated carriages came in and quickly overflowed the three benches he’d built.

  A few minutes after the initial rush, Carlisle and Nurse Findley arrived to assist with the races.

  “I confess I thought you’d exaggerated when you described the conditions here,” Nurse Findley whispered to them. The hem of her yellow gown held evidence of the sludge in the streets. “It’s even worse than I imagined. The death rate must be horrific.”

  “There are no official figures, of course,” Billy answered, her voice quiet. “But I see coffins leaving the shanties most every day.”

  Carlisle, never without a smile for too long, clapped Hunter’s shoulder. “You ready to organize this group of ragamuffins?”

  “I’m ready.” Blowing his whistle, he gathered the children and introduced the contests. Large boys kicked off their shoes and raced barefoot. Small boys emulated their example, and in the midst of them were Derry and Nefan.

  Hunter tied the brothers’ ankles together and helped them get to the starting line for the three-legged race, offering tips on how to stay in sync. When Carlisle gave the signal, they took off. Derry counted “Uno, due, uno, due,” and Hunter shouted his encouragement.

  A pair of boys to their right lifted their tied legs completely off the ground and simply hopped their way down. Not to be outdone, Derry sped up the count.

  Nefan couldn’t keep up and they tumbled to the ground, but those flowers were powerful motivators and they scrambled back to their feet. The fall had cost them, though, and other pairs passed them, leaving the Molinari boys to come in seventh. Flowers were only given to the first six.

  Jogging over to untie them, Hunter was stunned to see Derry choking back his disappointment.

  “Don’t give up, now.” Hunter squatted down and loosened the knot. “There’s still the sack races, potato races, footraces, and younger boys’ races.”

  But they didn’t place in any of them, and Hunter felt their disappointment as keenly as if it were his own. Every instinct he had made him want to sneak them a bloom. But that wouldn’t be the same as winning one. And it wouldn’t be fair to all the other children.

  One thing was for certain, though. He’d never again take for granted the bounty that surrounded his cabin back home. He wouldn’t even curse the blackbirds, for at least they came. The Nineteenth Ward had no birds at all—of any variety. Only rats and maggots.

  When the flowers were gone, the military drill was marched, and the maypole dance was completed, Billy joined Hunter along the periphery.

  “Did you see the Molinaris?” he asked.

  “I did.” She scanned the area. “Where are they now?”

  “Derry’s on the seesaw. Nefan’s in a hammock.”

  She looked at him. “You’ve been keeping up with them today, haven’t you?”

  Shrugging a shoulder, he rested against the fence behind him. “Did their sister, Alcee, come? The one who was chained?”

  She nodded. “Yes, thank goodness. She’s been in the sand bin the whole afternoon.”

  An impromptu tug-of-war began with the jump rope. When the team to the south started to tie the rope to a fence post for better advantage, Hunter pushed himself off the fence. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Hunter?”

  He turned to her.

  “The boys on the other end are stacking their team.”

  Shaking his head, he jogged toward them. He and Carlisle sorted it out, then officiated until they had a winner.

  A brisk breeze kicked up a swirl of dust, followed by a crack of thunder.

  Mothers began to stir and rounded up their tired and dusty but content children. He’d bet this was one of the happiest days they’d had since arriving on the shores of Lake Michigan. He was proud to have been a part of it.

  Miss Addams called everyone to attention and invited all to the coffeehouse for free refreshments. Those who’d been reluctant to heed the call of their mothers found they couldn’t resist the lure of whatever sweet confection awaited them at Hull House.

  In a few minutes, the playground was devoid of little ones. Carlisle, Nurse Findley, and the two policemen helped gather up sacks, ropes, potatoes, and balls.

  “Miss Addams has agreed to store all the equipment th
at can’t be left out here,” Billy said. “If you’ll drop the things you’ve collected by the house, I’m going to have Hunter remove those ribbons.”

  Carlisle glanced at the streamers fluttering in the breeze, his hands full. “You need any help?”

  “No, I think it’s a one-person job.” Hunter squeezed his friend’s shoulder. “Thanks for coming and for teaching the boys that drill. They sure were proud of it.”

  Carlisle smiled. “They’re good boys.”

  Billy held the gate open and thanked them again.

  Hunter shimmied up the maypole and replaced the ribbons with ropes, loosened a spinning mechanism, and turned the maypole into a giant stride.

  Rolling the ribbons into one big ball, Billy looked around. “Well, I think it was a wonderful success.”

  The breeze took on the smell of rain and a cooling edge. A tendril curling down her back lifted and swirled.

  “The girls did great,” he said. “I don’t know how you taught them to tie the ribbons like that, but they sure turned out pretty.”

  “They did, didn’t they?”

  He took the streamers from her arms and wrapped them about the bottom of the pole. “I don’t know about you, Miss Tate, but I haven’t been on a swing in a mighty long time.” He held out his hand. “What do you say?”

  Eyes brightening, she took his hand. “I’ve been secretly wanting to all day.”

  As soon as she settled in, he began to push her, generating a welcome breeze in the late afternoon air. The scent of freshly cut wood still clung to the swings. The creak of the rope kept time like a slow-ticking clock.

  “You don’t have to push.” She pumped her legs. “I can do it.”

  Shoot fire, but that woman was independent. Still, he ignored her protests and continued to push.

  Finally, she gave herself over to it, her head back, her feet out, laughter trickling over her shoulder. The wind whipped her skirts, teasing him with glimpses of petticoat and booted ankles. Visions of her crawling through the cellar came flooding back. He couldn’t help but imagine what the view must be like on the other side of that swing.