Sophie wondered what it must be like to have someone so blind to one’s faults.
Sometime later, after the boys had departed, Noah asked Sophie if he could escort her home.
“No, it’s not necessary,” she said. “Arthur is coming along because Alice lives so close.”
Noah nodded without trying to change her mind and turned away. So much for being a persistent suitor! She called him back.
“If you have a script,” she said, “I can copy it for the boys if you like.”
“No scripts. No sheet music. Nothing that requires reading.”
She tilted her head. “Why ever not? It would be much easier—”
“Because half the boys who came tonight can’t read. I’m hoping they are, even now, boasting about full bellies, how warm the church is, and how easy the practice was. We need another wise man and more angels. A whole host of them. We’re not going to bring any more boys in if we don’t spare their pride.”
He crossed the three steps separating them, stopping only when his face was closer to hers than necessary. “Because most of life’s problems can be traced to pride, in one form or another.”
Pride? Was he accusing her of being prideful? Or confessing his own?
“And you think the rest of the angels will come from the streets?” Somehow, the question wasn’t issued with the same disdainful disbelief she might have used before tonight’s rehearsal.
“That’s right.”
His confidence made her wonder if he might just be right, after all.
Chapter 7
“I don’t see why you won’t let Noah take you to see Mr. Pooley, that’s all.”
Arthur walked beside Sophie, setting a brisk pace toward Mr. Pooley’s home that he’d said was on Lake Street. For a hopefully leisurely visit with his older friend, Arthur didn’t look at all relaxed.
“And while we’re on the subject of Noah—”
So that was the reason for his scowl. Noah again. “That’s your subject, Arthur. Not mine.”
“That’s just it. I guess I understood back in Toledo why you might have run the other way when you caught sight of him, but he was a kid then, and so were you. Can’t you see he’s changed?”
“How do you restore something that’s rotten inside? He may have learned how to polish the outside, but who can say he’s any different on the inside?”
“I can! You don’t share the same roof with somebody for five years and not know him. Sure, he used to play pranks. But once he got a job—a real job that paid, not the kind his parents made him do without so much as a thank-you—he turned his energy to good, hard work.”
Sophie harrumphed and kept walking. “Just look at the kids he’s brought to the Nativity. They’re all exactly like him—how he used to be. Every one of those boys reminds me of who Noah is on the inside.”
“Those boys have changed in just three weeks. They laugh with each other now instead of at each other. They encourage one another.” He grinned. “I even saw one of them use a napkin instead of his shirtsleeve.”
“You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear, Arthur.”
Arthur stopped and grabbed her shoulders. “You’re proof that someone can change, Sophie. You used to be sweet. But now your heart is hard.” His fingers squeezed her shoulders, as if in frustration. Then he let her go. “I’ve changed my mind about today’s visit. If you want to see Mr. Pooley’s copy of that bird book, you’re going to have to ask Noah for the introduction.”
Then he turned and walked in the opposite direction.
“Arthur!”
But her brother ignored her call.
Sophie had no choice but to make her way back home. As much as she wanted to see—to study, admire, even emulate—the drawings of such an eminent artist as Mr. Wilson, she would not suffer Noah Jackson’s company to do so.
Noah eyed Tully. He’d been right about him from the first, that he was a leader, if not the top of the bunch. Several other new boys had come tonight, too, but Noah hadn’t expected Tully.
“We could use another shepherd,” Noah said slowly.
“Shepherd!” echoed Gordy. “He can have my spot as the third wise man, since I’m already the angel.”
Noah hesitated as everyone looked at him expectantly, including Tully. Clearly they all recognized the boy’s dominance and were ready to give him a prized role. Noah couldn’t say exactly what he didn’t trust about this boy, but a definite alarm bell sounded in his soul.
His alarm might be similar to the one ringing in Sophie’s soul about him—an alarm that was groundless, based on feeling, not fact. If he believed people could change, he’d have to believe Tully could, too. So Noah patted the boy’s shoulder.
“Good to have you join us, Tully. A wise man it is, then.”
Eying Sophie, he couldn’t help but see the disapproval on her face. Tully was just one more boy to her, one more to add to the list of delinquents working on this pageant.
He looked again at Tully, who playfully punched Gordy on the arm—a little too hard, perhaps, but in their language, a sign of gratitude for a preferred role. The rest of the boys were coming around, he was sure of it. By Christmas Eve when they presented the Nativity pageant, even Sophie would have to admit the boys showed promise—particularly if the apprenticeships and jobs Noah was working to secure came through.
But Tully? If Noah had to guess, this latecomer would need the most amount of change to reform, and Noah feared it might already be too late for time to be on his side with this one. At least to convince Sophie that all boys deserved a second chance.
By the middle of the evening, Noah was more worried than ever. In a single night, Tully managed to reignite all of the disruptive behavior Noah had successfully curbed in the past weeks. Like the leader he was, Tully’s example of amusing ridicule spurred the others into matching tones—all in the name of fun.
He put an end to it when Tully teased Sally. Noah didn’t hear the exact words, but given the crimson in Sally’s cheeks and the horror on Gordy’s face, it evidently had something to do with wanting to take the Holy Spirit’s place the next time “Mary” was with child.
“That’s enough, Tully,” Noah said. “You haven’t had the advantage the other boys have had, working together these last few weeks. We’ve made it clear this isn’t just a performance for the church. It’s portraying a holy memory. If you have no desire to act with respect for what we’re doing, then I’ll ask you to leave. Understood?”
The apology on Tully’s face looked so sincere Noah wished he could believe him. But the boy’s behavior had reminded him all too clearly of why Sophie remained wary of him, even after all these years. He’d given a few apologies like this himself back in his youth. All show and no truth.
Noah was exhausted. Working with the railroad commission all day and coming to the rehearsals in the evenings had been exhilarating until tonight. Back at his lodgings with Arthur, his feet dragged all the way up the stairs and to his cot.
In spite of that—or maybe because he knew it offered comfort—he pulled out the leatherwork tools he’d borrowed from Ezra then turned up the oil lamp beside his cot.
“Why are you doing all this, anyway?” Arthur asked, watching him work.
“What do you mean?”
“I know you started out wanting to win over Sophie, but is it worth it? All she does is turn up her nose at you. She’s my sister, and I know she can be good-natured, and I’ll take your word that she’s pretty enough, but is she worth all this trouble? Maybe she’s not meant to get married, or maybe she’s meant to marry somebody else.”
“You might be right, Artie,” Noah said, without pause in his work. “Except the truth is, I started falling in love with her as far back as reading some of those letters she wrote to you. So it’s your fault. You shouldn’t have shared them with me.”
Arthur lay back on his cot. “All right, then. Love’s a whole different story. I just hope you can bring back the sweet sister she w
as in those letters.”
Chapter 8
Sophie arrived early at church on Christmas Eve, hearing the excited voices of the boys who would perform tonight. Eager to join them, she stopped briefly in the coatroom to hang her coat—only to see a note tacked beneath the peg she always used.
Curious, she unfolded what looked like official stationery. Scrawled across the top, just below the address labeling it from a local newspaper, were written the bold words: Merry Christmas, Sophie, but this isn’t really a gift since your talent earned the chance.
Breath quickened, Sophie read the body of the letter. It was an invitation to submit her wildlife drawings to the editor at Chicago’s Prairie Farmer.
Amazed, she looked around, wondering where the note had come from. Arthur, who was just hanging his own coat, was the only one nearby.
“Look at this!”
He took the page from her, scanning it briefly as a smile grew on his face. “That’s Noah’s writing at the top.”
She gasped. “Do … Do you think this is a prank?”
Her brother moaned and scrubbed his face from hair to chin. “It’d serve you right to pass up the opportunity you want most in the world because you can’t believe Noah has changed.”
Then he waved a hand of dismissal at her and went off in search of Alice.
“Fear not! For behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people….”
Sophie watched Gordy from the audience, stealing a glance from him to their parents and seeing every bit as much pride on their faces as she felt in her heart. Although the pageant had just begun, it was already a success. The entire cast had shown up, even that rascal Tully, and she felt confident Gordy wasn’t the only one who knew his lines.
And the church was filled! There might be more taverns, brothels, and gambling dens in Chicago than there were churches, but on Christmas Eve it appeared even the hardest of hearts turned a little soft when it came to remembering the Christ child.
Although Sophie couldn’t see Noah, she easily imagined him behind the makeshift curtains, ensuring everyone went on and off the improvised stage at the appropriate time. If her heart had swelled upon hearing her brother’s sweet recitation of an angel’s invitation to the shepherds, that same heart pounded anew over how hard Noah had worked on this evening’s performance. All of it had been his vision, right down to the players involved.
She’d doubted him, she couldn’t deny it. But every one of the boys she’d so easily mistrusted had turned out to be similar to Gordy—eager to be accepted, ready to learn his part and to help someone else when necessary. She’d seen them filled with energy and brimming with laughter—in fact, looking for something to laugh about. How could that not be contagious?
Most surprising was Tully, the latecomer she was sure would put a damper on everything. But there he was, the third wise man, offering myrrh and worshipping Mary’s babe. Noah may not have accomplished such a miracle, but certainly God couldn’t have done it without his cooperation. And that was a miracle, too. The heart she believed so dark inside of Noah had been washed clean. Who was she to have doubted God could do such a thing for him?
All that was left now was regret that she’d clung so long to her mistrust of him. How could she not have seen that he believed in her drawings enough to arrange for the opportunity to be published in a real city newspaper?
O come, all ye faithful
Joyful and triumphant,
O come ye, O come ye, to Bethlehem.
Sophie joined the singing with adoration, knowing that God had reminded her not only of His love, but also to trust another’s love—one she’d been fighting too long.
Noah’s heart hadn’t been the only one in need of a washing. Her own had been too suspicious, too judgmental, too timid to realize that if she only trusted God’s work in Noah, she would have admitted weeks ago she was falling in love with him.
As the pageant came to a close, applause echoed from the rafters. No one clapped louder than Sophie as she searched the edges of the stage for a glimpse of the man who had inspired the entire evening.
Noah hadn’t realized the extent of his own fidgetiness until the audience burst into cheers at the end of the performance. He breathed freely for the first time that evening. There hadn’t been a single blunder, if he didn’t count Louie dropping the gold-painted stones at the foot of the crèche. Even Mrs. Gutierrez’s baby, just five weeks old, had been quiet through the entire performance as if in reverence to his part as the baby Jesus.
As the cast returned behind the scenes, he congratulated each of them while the crowd filed out. With some disappointment, he noticed Sophie talking with her parents as they approached the door at the other end of the sanctuary. Knowing they were leaving dashed his hopes that she might have stayed, but he comforted himself, knowing he would see her tomorrow.
Some of the cast had agreed to stay late to clean up so the church would be ready for Christmas morning service. As he folded costumes, he realized Gordy was among those who had stayed, and his pulse leaped with the thought of seeing Sophie again if he took the boy safely home.
“It turned out beautifully, Noah.”
The quiet, familiar voice from the dimmed sanctuary nearly made him drop the shepherd’s robe.
Sophie.
Had her voice sounded nearly breathless? He took a careful step closer to her, knowing he was too eager to hope he was responsible for taking her breath away. But the way she looked at him doubled his pulse.
“It turned out well, didn’t it?”
“It’s a memory that will live in the heart of everyone who was here tonight.” She spoke with a shyness he hadn’t seen in her since they were children. “At least, I know it will always be in my heart.”
Her smile went so clearly beyond her lips that he nearly approached her for a kiss. But he was too stunned to even try.
“Will it?” he asked instead, knowing he was apt to believe what he wanted with the slightest hint of hope. She was the last person he wanted to frighten away.
“Noah.” Was he fooling himself to hear something new in her voice? Surely she’d never called him by name so invitingly. “You arranged for me to submit my drawings to the Prairie Farmer, didn’t you?”
“I told you they’re good. They thought so, too, when I showed them the ones you sent to Artie.”
“Oh, Noah … I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You’re welcome, but all I did was present the pictures. Your work did the rest.”
The look in her eye multiplied the hope in his heart, and he dared another step closer, setting the robe on a nearby bench.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so foolish.” She, too, stepped nearer, whispering the words as if they were alone, even though a few others still lingered. “About everything. Those boys were remarkable tonight. I was so wrong to think they couldn’t be touched by God’s love—and the love you showed them.”
“Don’t think too highly of me,” he said. “I tried convincing myself I did it for Gordy, because I knew he was hanging around some of these boys. I know God loves them all, and they needed to be shown that. But the truth is, I was trying to impress you with how much I’ve changed.”
To his relief, his confessions didn’t erase her smile. “I think God used you in spite of me. And you let Him. I was an idiot not to see that.”
Noah could no longer keep himself in check. Who would be shocked if he kissed her right here, right now? The boys would likely cheer him on. And Pastor Goodwin had surely seen the way he’d been looking at her from the moment she arrived in town.
But no sooner had his lips brushed hers than he heard the door burst open and a scuffle at the threshold.
Chapter 9
Awash with confusion, Sophie had been about to pull Noah closer when he shot away, running toward a noise at the back of the small church sanctuary. Just beyond the last pew she saw three boys tussling—Louie and Lorcan appeared to be dragging a struggling Tully back
inside the church. Then Lorcan ripped open Tully’s brand-new coat. Buttons tapped on the floor—along with a thud and jingle from a box landing a few feet away.
The boys behind her all raised their voices at once, whether in support of the fight or against it, she couldn’t tell. Lorcan still had a grip on Tully’s coat while Louie ducked clear of Tully’s fist. The boy freed himself just as Noah came up from behind, grabbing Tully’s arms in a stronghold. When Lorcan looked as if he might take another swing at the hog-tied enemy, Sophie cried out as Noah pulled Tully safely beyond the reach of Lorcan’s punching arm.
“That’s enough!” Noah shouted, Tully still imprisoned. “What’s this about?”
Gordy picked up the box that had fallen during the fight. “This is the collection box!”
Pastor Goodwin stepped forward, reaching for the box. “It certainly is. I’d put it under my coat while I was helping with the cleanup.”
“Here’s the rat that took it!” Lorcan yelled at Tully. “I told you we weren’t going in on that scheme—”
Sophie came up beside Gordy. “Scheme? Did you know about a scheme, Gordy?”
He shook his head.
“Well, I did,” said Louie. “So did half the other fellas. Only we all tol’ him we wasn’t gonna do it—distract ever’body so he could get away with it.”
“I didn’t see him take it, but I guess he gone and done it anyway,” Lorcan added.
Tully had the good sense to hang his head, because not one of his fellow street boys looked as if they’d offer him a smidgeon of compassion.
Noah could have moaned aloud. So much for redemption. He couldn’t help but wonder if Sophie believed a bully’s heart was destined to remain one, just as, it seemed, was Tully’s.
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