“You can insist all you like. He stays with me. As do Lizzie and Jacob.” Bridget didn’t wait to see his reaction but shepherded her family onto the train. She made sure they were seated together before turning her attention to the girls in her charge. Tears filled her eyes as almost twenty faces stared back at her, some younger than Annie. These children were in her care for the next few weeks. She greeted each and every one of them.
“Miss, can I sit with my sister?” one of the girls said to her. “She’s only two and needs me.”
“Of course, you can, love,” Bridget said.
“But the man said…”
Bridget gripped her hands so tightly, her fingernails clawed into her skin. “He made a mistake. You go on and sit with your sister. In fact, all siblings please take a seat together, the older ones will move to sit beside the younger ones.”
Bridget waited until she had six sets of sisters seated together. Then she looked at her remaining group and quickly rearranged them so there were older girls matched with younger ones.
“We are going to travel in pairs. I don’t want to lose anyone, so each of you are going to be responsible for the younger child sitting next to you. Any questions?”
“No, ma’am,” came the chorus.
“You can call me Bridget, not ma’am, if you prefer.”
“They will call you ma’am, Miss Collins,” Mr. Watson said, walking up behind her. “You are not their friend but their supervisor. Now come with me, we need to collect the babies.” Mr. Watson looked at the older girls for a moment before pointing to three of them. “You, you and you, please come with me to help.”
Bridget followed Mr. Watson from the train after telling Liam to remain in his seat with Annie. She bit back her anger at the way he had addressed the girls, surely, he could have made an effort to learn their names. The dog followed him once more.
“What are you going to do about the dog?” she asked.
“What do you mean, do?’
“Maybe he is hungry. He seems to be following you?”
“He’s always hungry. Don’t fall for his tricks. He is good at gathering sympathy aren’t you, Scamp?”
To his amazement, Miss Collins actually caressed the scraggly looking mutt. The dog’s tail wagged so fast it was a wonder it didn’t fall off.
“You know him?”
“Scamp is my best friend, Miss Collins. Anywhere I go, he comes too. Isn’t that right fella?”
The dog woofed as in agreement.
“But he’s a dog,” she said, realizing she was stating the obvious.
A pair of twinkling eyes looked back at her as if he was laughing.
“I mean he could be dangerous to the children.” She tried to justify her comment, but it only seemed to amuse him more.
“Scamp would never hurt a child.” He rubbed the dog’s head before staring at her. “Miss Collins, he won’t touch anyone unless I tell him to. The dog stays. I trust him more than I trust most humans. Dog’s don’t lie.”
She stared at the dog for a couple of seconds, thinking he might be a good distraction for the children.
“We have four babies on this journey. The older girls will help you,” he told her.
The abrupt change of subject caught her off guard and she was silent for a couple of seconds.
“I take it by your silence you agree?”
“You could always take the baby boys,” she suggested. Bridget knew she shouldn’t irritate him, but she couldn’t help herself. “You know, seeing as you have separated everyone including siblings.”
“I did what I was told,” he said. “Perhaps you should try following suit.”
Bridget stared at him for a couple of seconds before she replied, in a tone she usually reserved for Annie and Liam when they were misbehaving. “I will take the babies as they need cuddles and hugs as well as feeding and changing. I suggest, in fact, I insist you go back on that train and rearrange the seating to allow siblings to sit together. This may be the last time those children see their families. Who are you to stop them from spending time together?”
He came to a standstill, stopped a minute, and then turned to face her. She couldn’t read the expression on his face. It seemed to be a mixture of surprise and irritation.
“Who am I?” he asked. “I would better ask who do you think you are? I am in charge here, Miss Collins, and if you don’t like it, you better get used to it. It is my role to make sure these children are placed, and we do not have to bring them back to New York. Is that clear?”
“No, it isn’t,” she said, standing firm.
“Pardon? Are you feebleminded? If we do not place the children with families, we will have to bring them back to live in New York.”
“I understand that much,” Bridget said. “What you don’t understand is your role is not to place these children like one would place parcels on a goods train. Our job on this train is to ensure these children go to loving homes where possible. At the very least they go to homes whose occupants will provide them with food, care, and schooling. That is your role, Mr. Watson. And you best get used to it.”
She swept past him, not waiting for a reply. If he argued back with her, she could very well push him under the train. Well, she wouldn’t really, although she would love to. She muttered a prayer asking for forgiveness for her lack of patience.
Chapter 22
She walked off to greet the representative from the foundling hospital, thankful the nun hadn’t heard her exchange with Mr. Watson.
“My name is Bridget Collins, Sister. Father Nelson asked me to help on this trip as the usual lady, Maud, is ill.”
“Oh, dear me, you don’t look old enough to care for four babies,” the nun said, eyeing her skeptically.
What age did the nun think she was? She had been caring for little kids since she was practically no more than one herself. It was the way in the tenements.
“I am nineteen, Sister, and have plenty of practice. Father Nelson told me every baby had a note with it, so we know which family to give the child to,” Bridget said.
“Yes, they do,” the nun confirmed. “This dear little one is Martha, this one is David, the far one is Patrick, and the one in the pram still asleep is Kathleen. She has a touch of an upset stomach so needs regular water. Martha likes her…”
“That’s enough, Sister John Bosco,” another, older nun spoke up. “The girl will take over now. It’s time to get back to the Convent. We have wasted too much time here already.”
Bridget couldn’t believe the older nun’s attitude. Where was her heart? She opened her mouth to object, but the younger nun shook her head.
Carl Watson had watched the expressions cross Miss Collin’s face before she walked off. She was like an open book, so easy to read. Well, she would learn not to wear her heart on her sleeve. If she didn’t, she would end up with a broken heart. Like his. He kept watching, scratching Scamp’s head right behind his ear, until she reached the nun. He was about to turn away when he spotted Sister Constance. That was one woman who should never be allowed anywhere near a child. He moved quickly in order to help Miss Collins when Sister Constance started throwing her weight around as she was apt to do.
As he had suspected, she was bullying Sister John Bosco, another lady who wore her heart on her sleeve. If he had a dollar for every time he had seen the younger nun show kindness to a child, he would be a wealthy man. He moved quickly to remove Sister Constance and allow the younger nun say goodbye to the babies. He sensed Miss Collins would see his actions for what they were, so he formed a mask over his face. It wouldn’t do for her to believe he had feelings. Women considered men like that to be weak. That lesson he had learned the hard way.
“Good morning, Sister Constance, John Bosco,” Mr. Watson said, walking over to them. “I see you have met my assistant for the trip. Sister Constance, if you wish to return to your cab, be my guest. But Sister John Bosco will provide details on each child to Miss Collins and the girls.”
&
nbsp; Mr. Watson nodded to Sister John Bosco and then to Bridget who was staring at him with her mouth open, before he turned back in the direction of the train.
Bridget nearly fell over. He had a heart after all. He was giving the younger nun a chance to make sure each of her charges was cared for properly. She looked to his face, but his head was turned away, so she couldn’t see his expression.
“As I was saying, Martha seems to sense change and it unsettles her. She likes this blanket, left with her by her mother.” The nun whispered the last words, her anxious gaze darting toward the other nun.
“Thank you, Sister, I will see it stays with her,” Bridget assured her.
“David is a wee pet, would sleep forever if you don’t wake him to be fed. Patrick, well, some would say he is the troublemaker, but I think he just needs the most love.”
Bridget took each baby carefully as the Nun passed them over but only after she had hugged each one close. She gave each of the three oldest girls a baby to take onto the train. She thought Sister John Bosco would make a natural mother and wondered what had made her become a nun. With tears in her eyes, the young nun hurried away as soon as the last baby was in Bridget’s arms.
Mr. Watson was waiting at the car door as she made her way back.
“Thank you for intervening back there,” Bridget said as nicely as she could.
“I only did what was best for our trip. Now if you could take your place please, the train is ready to depart.”
Bridget bit her lip rather than respond. She had tried being nice and he threw it back in her face. The man would try the patience of Job.
Chapter 23
Carl turned to attend to the luggage, then the conductor approached him, a look of disgust on his face. Scamp snarled at the uniformed man making Carl put his hand on the dog’s head. It wouldn’t do for the dog to be thrown off.
“Mr. Watson, you going to keep this rabble under control? I have a train full of real people who do not want their journey to be—”
“Rabble?” Carl interrupted, using his coldest tone to good effect as the bluster drained out of the conductor. Scamp growled.
“The children, I mean,” the man corrected himself.
“The children will behave,” Carl said. “Now why don’t you go and do your job and let me get on with mine.”
The man walked off as Carl stared after him. People like the conductor were part of the problem with the world today. Those who would look at such a miserable bunch of misfit, unwanted children and instead of seeing all they needed was love, kindness, and a firm hand, would assume they were thieves and goodness knows what else in the making. He wished he hadn’t agreed to do this role again. It was thankless as well as heartbreaking. He knew, despite his best efforts, that these orphans, or at least the older ones, were as likely to get adopted into loving families as he was to fall in love and have a family of his own.
Still it wasn’t going to help anyone if he went soft now. The children needed to be prepared for the life ahead of them. The worst thing he could do was give them the impression that kindness and love were waiting for them. As he worked through the supplies, making sure each child got their allocation, his mind kept straying to Bridget Collins. Although this was her first trip with the outplacement society, she had risen to the challenge of the role admirably.
She had such a big heart, making sure every child felt important. They weren’t just orphans to her but real people. She would try her best to find them good homes. He would have to make sure she wasn’t too idealistic as they couldn’t afford to return all thirty plus children back to New York. The grim reality was, that the New York tenements offered almost certain death in the future for these children. At least with foster families they stood a chance. Some would meet wonderful, caring families who would treat them like their own. Others would meet individuals who would raise them to be hard workers and respectful of themselves and others. The minority, or so he hoped, would end up with people who would mistreat them.
At best, all he could do was to hopefully protect the children from the worst of the abuse. No child would end up in a family like the one that had adopted him.
Chapter 24
Bridget scrutinized the children. Thankfully, Mr. Watson had given in to her request to have siblings sit together. It was actually easier to handle a mixed group of children than it would be to leave the boys together to rile each other on.
She walked down the car loosening the leather straps on the windows to encourage more air. She didn’t want any child falling out, so she encouraged the older, or more responsible children, to sit by the windows. When the train started moving, the buildings whizzed by, exciting the children. Then they left the buildings of New York behind and the scenery gradually became greener with open fields rather than grey tenements.
“Look there’s cows. My ma used to milk cows back in Ireland,” one of the younger children commented.
“Milk comes from the horse and cart on the street, stupid. Not from an animal,” a slightly older boy replied.
“You’re stupid. The cow gives us the milk don’t they, Miss Collins?”
Bridget listened to them chattering, full of curiosity. For most of them it was the first time they had seen wide-open spaces, never mind cows and sheep. One of the younger girls pulled on her sleeve, her expression suggesting she was about to cry.
“Yes, Lizzie?” Bridget asked.
“Where have all the people gone? You said we would find families.”
“We have to reach a town first. Come here.” Bridget moved baby Martha to her other arm to let Lizzie sit on her knee. Then she pointed at the homesteads in the distance. “See those are houses, the people who live in them probably own the land and the animals you see.”
“They must be rich. Imagine having all that space to call your own.” Lizzie gazed in wonder at the view, all the while sucking her thumb. Bridget prayed the little one would find a family to give her the stability she craved. She had grown to love the little girl and also to admire her brother Jacob. But it would be difficult to place her in a home with Jacob.
She looked up to see Jacob watching her with Lizzie, his expression suggesting he was anticipating trouble. Despite living in the sanctuary with them for a few weeks, he didn’t seem to trust her. His hard stare only served to highlight the jagged scar on his face. She could imagine people being scared if they met him on a street. They may even cross the road to avoid him.
They wouldn’t give him a chance, get to know the loving, sensitive boy hiding behind the scar. His hard stare was a defense, a way of protecting himself from the dangers on the streets, but those who had never had to deal with the underworld of New York may not understand.
He was so protective of his little sister that they were inseparable. Lily had given Jacob a bed in with the other boys, but he’d insisted on sleeping on the floor beside Lizzie’s bed.
“You look perplexed, Miss Collins.”
Startled, she looked up at Mr. Watson. She hadn’t noticed him walking toward her, nor heard Scamp panting as he came to rest at her feet. She had been miles away.
“I was just thinking that’s all,” she said.
“About?”
“The lives the children have led to date and the mark it has made on them. Some, like Sally’s injury, are more visible than others.”
He followed her gaze toward Jacob and nodded. “That young boy has seen more in his short lifetime than most adults.”
“Do you know how his face got so scarred?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her as to how much he knew about the orphans in his care.
He shook his head.
“His father hit him.”
At his harsh intake of breath, she explained that Jacob and Lizzie were the only siblings to survive from a family of eight. Their mother and baby brother Ben had died recently, the other siblings had died in various accidents over the years.
“I cannot understand why he wasn’t locked up?” she asked
as if Mr. Watson would be able to enlighten her. “The children should have been taken away from him.”
“Why are we about to escort thirty-eight children across America to find them new homes? If you are going to work for the Outplacement Society, you have to accept that bad things happen. We don’t live in a fair or just world.”
Bridget didn’t reply. What could she say? He sounded so jaded for someone so young. Now she sat beside him, she knew he was likely in his mid-twenties and not thirties as she had originally thought. She wanted to ask him why he was so detached when he appeared to care for the children, but she couldn’t find the words.
Chapter 25
Carl tried his best to avoid spending time with Jacob and Lizzie but no matter what he tried, Lizzie kept seeking him out. Seeing the love they had for each other was too painful a reminder. He didn’t rate their chances of being adopted together very highly and he knew from experience the pain that would cause. He was sitting with Scamp one afternoon while the train engineers topped up on water and coal when Lizzie came over to sit by him.
“How old is Scamp?” Lizzie asked as she patted the dog who rolled over, so she could scratch his tummy. “I’d love a puppy, but my Pa never liked dogs.”
“I am not sure, but I guess about five years.”
“Where did you find him?” Lizzie asked, without looking away from the dog.
“He found me. We were in a town, placing some children in new homes, and he kept trailing after us.” Carl tried to keep his tone light but remembering the state of the dog when they’d first met always made him angry. Scamp had been as thin as a weed and dirtier than any animal he had ever seen. His body bore signs of abuse as well. A group of boys had been tormenting the poor animal with sticks and he had intervened. The dog hadn’t left his side since.
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