by Jo Goodman
It was as if he had been struck. The impact of the words caused Colin's thin body to vibrate. He could feel heat creeping into his cheeks as he flushed deeply with equal parts anger and shame. In that moment he knew he was standing there because he couldn't move, not because he didn't want to.
"Is the boy ill?" the man asked the headmaster. "My wife's right. He's very thin."
"He doesn't eat," the headmaster said. The glance he leveled at Colin darkened considerably and the warning was clear. "He's really had little appetite since he arrived. My wife believes the... um, incident... affected him more than the others. It's understandable, of course, being the oldest."
As if there were no other conversation in the room, Colin said again, "I'd like to hold my brother." This time he held up his arms.
The man prompted his wife gently. "Dear? Where can be the harm?"
She did not accede immediately, but considered her options for several long seconds. Colin watched her eyes shift briefly toward the door as though she were toying with the idea of fleeing the room. In the end she gave him the baby accompanied by a stiff, icy admonishment not to drop him.
Colin held his infant brother to his small chest, cradling the boy as he had on so many other occasions these past three months. Turning away from the adults, ignoring the woman's sharp intake of breath, Colin adjusted the baby's blankets and smoothed his muslin gown. "I'll find you," he said, his lips barely moving around the words. "I promise, I'll find you."
Greydon cooed obligingly and beat his small fist against Colin's shoulder.
"I think that's long enough," the man said as his wife took a step forward to hover over the brothers.
The headmaster addressed Colin. "Give Greydon back now."
Colin did not so much return his brother as his brother was taken from him. He did not wait to be dismissed a second time. He could not leave the headmaster's darkly paneled office quickly enough. His gait was stiff and his spine rigid. Only his lower lip trembled uncontrollably as he crossed the floor. He barely heard the woman's words and at the time didn't fully comprehend the impact they would have.
Tickling the baby's chin, she said softly, "I don't think I care for the name Greydon at all."
* * *
It was only three weeks later that Decker left Cunnington's Workhouse for Foundlings and Orphans. Colin had thought he would have a longer time with Decker. It was not so usual for four-year-old orphans to be placed with a family. The ones who could understand their fate at so young an age were reconciled to the prospect of servitude or apprenticeship. It seemed an infinitely more desirable alternative than remaining at Cunnington's until twelve years of age, then being put on London's unforgiving streets. A boy who didn't know how to fend for himself might be taught thievery if he was judged to be quick-witted and light-fingered by one of the London bands. If he caught a pimp's eye, however, he was more likely to learn the skin trade and ply his wares until his looks faded or disease wasted him.
Colin wanted none of those things for Decker so he was resigned to the fact that Decker's departure from Cunnington's was necessary, if not welcome. He wanted to be happier for his brother, thought he should be happier, but in his heart of hearts he knew he was also jealous. And afraid. And now alone.
The couple who chose Decker among the score of other children were a more satisfactory pair in Colin's eyes than the couple who had taken Grey. The wife was handsome, not pretty, but she had a serene smile and a quiet way about her that smoothed the anxious lines between Decker's brows and eased Colin's mind. Her husband was reserved but polite, a bit uncertain what to make of Decker's constant questioning until his wife said indulgently, "Why, answer him, cher. Just as you do me." That was when the man spoke. His voice was a deep, rich baritone, the edges of his words crisp and defined. It was a voice that inspired confidence and Colin guiltily wished that he might be chosen in place of his brother or at least that he might be permitted to accompany him.
The headmaster tried again. "Perhaps you will consider Decker's brother also?"
The woman's kind eyes alighted on Colin. Sadness and pain warred in her expression and then Colin flushed deeply, recognizing pity when it was turned in his direction. "We'd take them all if we could," she said to the headmaster. "Ce n'est pas possible."
Her husband nodded. "She means it all," he said. "We would if we could. And the child must be healthy. There's the voyage to think of. We have a long trip ahead."
Colin slipped out of the headmaster's office quietly. In the dimly lighted hallway he sucked in a ragged breath and swallowed the hard, aching lump in his throat. If he closed his eyes he knew he would see the woman's piteous look. He didn't want her pity. In truth, he wanted her gratitude. Did she think her new son's sturdy little body was a happy accident of nature?
In anticipation of the evening meal, Colin's stomach actually growled. It had been a long time since he had heard that sound. In the months since coming to Cunnington's he had accustomed himself to eating less in order that his brothers might have more.
He had done what he could for them. Now he had to think of himself.
~
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My Steadfast Heart
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Meet The Author
Jo Goodman is a licensed professional counselor working with children and families in West Virginia’s Northern Panhandle. Always a fan of the happily ever after, Jo turned to writing romances early in her career as a child care worker when she realized the only life script she could control was the one she wrote herself. She is inspired by the resiliency and courage of the children she meets and feels privileged to be trusted with their stories, the ones that they alone have the right to tell.
Once upon a time, Jo believed she was going to be a marine biologist. She knows she is lucky that seasickness made her change course. She lives with her family in Colliers, West Virginia. Please visit her website at www.jogoodman.com or hang out with her at www.facebook.com/jogoodmanromance.