by Al Lacy
Betty ran her gaze over the three faces. “I’ll be going. See all of you later.”
“Thanks for letting me win,” Jody said, a wide grin spread over her pretty face.
Betty grinned back, wheeled her mare around, and trotted away.
Jody turned to her father. “Daddy, just give me two minutes to wash my face and get a drink of water, and I’ll be all set to go with you.”
“Sure. Go ahead, honey. Hurry, though. Remember I have an appointment with the bank president. I don’t want to be late.”
“Yes, sir!” she said. “Be right back.”
As Jody took the porch steps two at a time and plunged through the door, Sam took Emma in his arms and kissed her. “Thank you for giving me a daughter like that, sweet stuff. What a girl! She’s so much like her mother.”
Emma crinkled her nose. “My, hasn’t God blessed you? Just think what a fortunate man you are to have two such marvelous women in your life.”
“Don’t I know it!”
Emma clipped his chin. “And don’t you forget it!”
“Oh, how could I? How blessed I am!”
Sam stepped to Queenie, took hold of the reins, and said, “Hey, ol’ gal, let’s get you a drink of water.”
He led her to the nearby watering trough and let her drink all she wanted. As he was leading her back to the front of the house, Jody came out the door and put her arms around her mother. She asked if there was anything else her mother needed from the general store other than what was on the list she had given her that morning.
Emma said there was nothing else. Jody told her she would see her later and moved up to her father. “Thank you for watering Queenie for me, Daddy, and thank you for waiting for me.”
Emma looked on with pleasure as Sam kissed Jody’s forehead and squeezed her tight. She was glad that Sam and his daughter were very close. It pleased her that they spent so much time together. Jody had made herself a tomboy, knowing her father very much wanted a son too. She worked with him on the ranch and helped with the chores. She also helped her mother with the cooking, washing, ironing, and the housework, which she enjoyed more.
Father and daughter mounted up and rode toward town, where he would take care of his banking business while she purchased a few things at the general store.
As Sam and Jody rode into Cheyenne and were moving past the railroad station, they saw a train with several coal cars. The coal was being unloaded into wagons owned by Cheyenne residents, town merchants, the town’s blacksmith, and several ranchers and farmers.
Jody glanced at her father. “I guess we don’t need coal this time, do we, Daddy?”
“No. We’re set till the middle of next fall.”
She ran her gaze over the coal cars. “Those Rocky Mountains must really be full of coal. They just keep digging more out all the time.”
“Yes. When God created the earth, He knew that man would need the coal to heat his homes and business buildings; that the blacksmiths would need it to do their work, and the factories would need it for melting alloys of iron, carbon, and other elements to make steel.”
“Well, I’m sure glad we have coal to heat our house in these cold Wyoming winters, Daddy. The Lord sure has been good to the people He put on this earth. I wish more of them would see how good the Father was to send His Son to provide them with salvation. But most of them seem to have no interest in Jesus. They want religion, but they don’t want Him. Or they want to mix what He did at Calvary with human works, which is to say that what Jesus did when He shed His blood on the cross, died, and rose again was not enough to save lost sinners.”
“You’ve got that right, sweetheart. Anything added to His finished work at Calvary is human works, and as you well know, the Bible says salvation is by grace, not of works, lest any man should boast.”
“That’s what my Sunday school teacher was saying last Sunday, Daddy. When human works are added to the gospel, it takes the glory from Jesus and puts it on those who do the works.”
“Right. And because Jesus paid the full price for our sins on the cross, God the Father wants all the glory to go to His Son.”
“And that’s the way it should be.”
“Amen, sweetheart.”
Soon Sam and Jody were in Cheyenne’s business section. As they drew near the general store, Jody said, “Daddy, I’ll be sitting on one of those benches in front of the store when you come back from the bank.”
“All right, honey. See you later.”
Jody veered Queenie toward the hitch rail in front of the store as her father headed for the next block where the Bank of Cheyenne was located.
She dismounted, patted Queenie’s long neck, and entered the general store.
Twenty minutes later, Jody came out of the store, packages in hand, talking to a teenage girl who was in her Sunday school class. The girl headed down the boardwalk, and Jody stepped into the street and drew up to her mare. She began placing the small packages into a canvas bag that was attached to the rear of her saddle. When she got to the last package, she reached inside and took out a long stick of licorice candy. Her favorite.
Jody’s mother always gave her permission to purchase a nickel’s worth of candy whenever she went to the general store for her. She patted the mare’s neck again. “Daddy will be back in a little while, Queenie.”
The mare bobbed her head and whinnied lightly as if she understood Jody’s words.
Jody went to one of the benches and sat down to wait for her father.
She relished every bite of her licorice stick. Since it was Saturday, farm and ranch families were in town for shopping, which made for a constant stream of people moving along the boardwalk. Jody sat in complete contentment, for people watching was one of her preferred pastimes. A few minutes had passed when Jody looked up and saw Pastor Dan Forbes, his wife Clara, and their two sons coming down the boardwalk. Peter Forbes was Jody’s age, and Paul was ten years old. Clara Forbes spotted Jody first, and pointed her out to the rest of the family. Jody put the licorice stick in her purse.
“Your parents in the general store, Jody?” asked the pastor.
“No, sir. Daddy’s over at the bank doing business with Mr. Wilson. Mommy didn’t come to town with us. I just finished a little grocery shopping for her.”
“Oh, I see.”
Clara smiled. “Well, it’s nice of you to do the shopping for her, honey.”
“I enjoy it.”
Jody noticed Peter and Paul as they stepped across the boardwalk to the hitch rail and stroked Queenie’s long face, speaking to her. Queenie nickered her own greeting.
The pastor looked at Jody. “Have you and Betty had a good race lately?”
“Oh yes. Just this morning, in fact.”
“And who won?”
“I did.”
“Well, that’s good. The last time I asked about you girls racing was at church a couple of weeks ago. Betty had won.”
Jody giggled. “Oh, we trade off as to who wins.”
“Really? So you two plan on who’s going to win before you race?”
“No. Millie and Queenie plan it out.”
The pastor and his wife both laughed. “Come on, boys, we have to be going. We don’t want to be late for your dentist appointment, Paul.”
The boys left Queenie and moved back to the spot where their parents stood. Jody said, “Tell Dr. Miller hello for me, Paul.”
Paul chuckled. “Tell you what, Jody—I’ll stay here, and you go see Dr. Miller in my place. Tell him hello in person.”
“Nice try,” said Clara.
Paul made a mock scowl. “I don’t want to go to the dentist, Mom.”
“Nobody does,” said Clara. “But with all of us it’s necessary from time to time.”
The pastor told Jody he would see her and her parents at church tomorrow, and he and his family walked away.
Jody sat down on the bench again, took her licorice stick out of her purse, and went back to her people watching.
&nbs
p; A short time later, she saw her father riding down the street toward her. As he pulled up to the hitch rail, he looked at her and smiled. “Get your shopping done, honey?”
“Sure did,” she said, putting the last piece of licorice in her mouth and rising from the bench. “I already loaded the sacks into the canvas bag.” She ducked under the hitch rail and mounted Queenie. “Pastor Forbes and his family came by, Daddy. Paul has an appointment with the dentist.”
Sam screwed up his face. “I’m glad we have dentists in this world, but I sure don’t like to go to them.”
“I never met anyone who likes to go to the dentist.”
As father and daughter headed north on Main Street, they soon found themselves drawing near the railroad station. They saw that the coal train was gone and a passenger train stood in its place.
Jody’s attention was drawn to a long line of children who were standing on the depot platform next to the train. Men and women were talking to them. “Daddy, look! It’s one of the orphan trains.”
“Sure enough. I read the announcement about this train in the Cheyenne Sentinel last week. It told that the train would be in today for prospective foster parents to pick and choose the orphans as they wished.”
“I’ve heard you and Mommy talk about the orphan trains at times, Daddy, but I never understood about these foster parents. Do they adopt them legally after a while?”
“Well, from what I’ve read, most of them remain foster parents, even though the plan is to raise them until they are adults. But some do adopt them right away. They simply go to a local judge to get it done.”
“Well, Daddy, here’s your chance to get that boy you’ve always wanted!”
Sam laughed. “Tell you what, Jody Ann Claiborne, since you’re such a tomboy, that’s enough! I don’t need a boy.”
“Then I guess I’m not going to be replaced.”
“You’re sure not!”
“Daddy …”
“Yes?”
“Could we go in there to the depot and just watch for a few minutes?”
“Why, sure. Since my meeting with Mr. Wilson was shorter than expected, we have time.”
They left their horses at hitching posts in the depot’s parking lot and moved up to the platform beside the train. Jody’s eyes were wide as she beheld the scene from close up. She quickly counted sixty-three children in the line. Adults were moving slowly along the line, looking them over, and talking to them.
The children ranged in age from about four or five to their mid-teens. The boys were dressed in black or gray suits with white shirts and neckties, and the girls were in red or blue dresses that were all styled similarly. The hems of the dresses came down to the tops of their black lace-up boots.
Jody noticed similar expressions on the pinched faces of both boys and girls. The apprehension they felt showed in their eyes, and it was obvious that turmoil was racing through their hearts as they stood as spectacles on display before the adults. They fidgeted and continuously watched the faces of the adults who were taking measure of them.
Young as they were, some of the children looked beaten down with wary eyes that appeared much too old for their age. Some of the older boys tried to mask their fear with a facade of bravery while the older girls often glanced at each other, eyes round and huge as they felt the gaze of the scrutinizing adults on them.
Jody’s tender heart went out to them and her green eyes filled with tears. She looked up at her father. “Daddy, what will happen if the train arrives at its destination on the West Coast and no one takes them?”
“Well, sweetheart, from what I’ve read about it in the newspapers, the children that are not chosen are taken back to the Children’s Aid Society in New York. Some of them are so discouraged that they go back to the streets. Others wait till they can get on another orphan train and try again.”
“Do the ones who are chosen always get into good homes?”
Sam shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. Though the Children’s Aid Society people don’t like it, many of the boys and girls are chosen just to be made into servants and field hands. And some of those are abused. It’s so sad. If this is a typical group, some of those you see right here are not actually orphans, but have run away from homes in New York City where they were mistreated and abused. And then they end up in homes just like the kind they had run away from.”
Jody wiped tears from her eyes. “That’s awful, Daddy.”
“Yes, but thank the Lord, the majority of the children do find good homes where they are loved and given the care they deserve. I’ll tell you, sweetie, life on those New York streets is appalling and very dangerous. At least those who are chosen—even if it is to be servants and field hands—will have food and clothing supplied, a warm, comfortable bed at night, and many of them will be sent to school.”
Jody ran her misty eyes over the line of children. “Daddy, I wish we could take them all home with us.”
Sam put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close to his side. “I do too, darlin’. I do too. But we can’t.”
“I know, Daddy, but it doesn’t keep me from wishing.”
Chapter Two
While Sam and Jody Claiborne observed the proceedings on the depot platform, they spotted a couple named Hap and Margie Lakin, who owned a small ranch near the Circle C. The Lakins were in the line of prospective foster parents, talking to the children and looking them over.
“What do you think of that, Daddy?” asked Jody. “Hap and Margie are looking for a foster child.”
“Well, she did have that miscarriage two years ago, and another one last year. Maybe the doctor told her not to try having any more babies.”
“I imagine that’s it.”
Father and daughter continued to watch the line. One by one, couples were choosing a boy here, a girl there, and the Children’s Aid Society men and women in charge of the orphans were questioning the prospective foster parents. Papers were being signed on clipboards, and couples were walking away with the children they had chosen.
Jody elbowed her father. “Look there, Daddy. Hap and Margie have been talking to that little girl for several minutes. I think they’re interested in her. I heard the girl say she is nine years old.”
At that instant, Hap spotted Sam and Jody and smiled at them. Margie asked him something, and after he had answered her question, he gestured toward Sam and Jody looking on. Margie looked at them, gave them a tiny wave, then went right back to talking to the little girl.
Jody noticed that standing right next to the nine-year-old was a girl a couple of years younger, who strongly resembled the nine-year-old.
Jody elbowed her father again. “See that little girl right next to the one Hap and Margie are talking to, Daddy?”
“Uh-huh. Looks a lot like her. Has to be her little sister.”
“That’s what I was going to say.”
At that moment, Hap motioned to one of the women sponsors nearby, who was not occupied at the moment. “Ma’am! My wife and I are ready to sign the papers.”
The woman stepped up. “You want to take both Lorraine and Maisie, I assume.”
Hap leaned toward Margie, and they talked in a low tone.
The sisters watched as Hap and Margie had their private talk. Maisie tugged at Lorraine’s sleeve and rose up on her tiptoes. Lorraine kept her eyes on the Lakins as she bent her head toward her little sister in order to hear what she so desperately wanted to say to her.
Maisie whispered, “Sissy, are they gonna take both of us? They haven’t talked to me.”
A troubled look claimed Lorraine’s features. “I would think so, honey. I told them you’re my sister.”
“Then why haven’t they talked to me?”
“I don’t know. I—”
The Lakins were now speaking to the woman with the clipboard.
Fear touched Lorraine’s heart. She looked on, eyes wide.
The woman was now asking questions, and when she finished, she handed the Lakins t
he clipboard and a pencil, so they could sign the papers. Both put their signatures on the papers, then Margie handed the clipboard back to the woman. She made sure the signatures were at each place as directed, then turned to the oldest girl. “Lorraine, this nice family is taking you home with them.”
Lorraine frowned. “You do mean both of us, don’t you?” she asked in a low whisper, her eyes hopeful.
Maisie was able to pick up her sister’s words, and her eyes went to the woman. “No, dear. They are only taking you.”
“But—but—”
“We can’t take both of you, honey,” Margie said softly. “We just can’t afford to take in two mouths to feed.”
Suddenly, Maisie threw herself into her sister’s arms and burst into tears. “I have to go with you, Sissy! Please, please take me with you!”
The Lakins exchanged glances, each showing a helpless look.
The woman with the clipboard bent down and stroked the face of the seven-year-old. “Maisie, honey, don’t cry. I’m sorry you and Lorraine will have to be separated, but it often has to be this way. Mr. and Mrs. Lakin just can’t afford to take in both of you.”
Jody Claiborne bit her lips and took hold of her father’s arm. “Daddy, this is awful. That poor little Maisie must have already lost her parents, and now she is losing her sister too!”
Sam pulled Jody close and said in a low voice, “I read in the newspaper that quite often brothers and sisters are separated when they are chosen by foster parents. It is better than the children living on the streets of New York in squalor, starving to death or freezing to death.”
Jody shuddered, shook her head, and fixed her gaze on little Maisie as Lorraine put an arm around her. “Honey, please don’t cry. This is the way it has to be. I have to go with these people. You heard what Mrs. Jackson said.”
“But I want to go with you!” wailed Maisie.
Lorraine cupped Maisie’s face in her hands. “Honey, someone will take you and give you a good home. I promise.” Tears were now streaming down Lorraine’s cheeks. “I love you, Maisie. I don’t want to leave you, but I have to go with these people. I don’t have a choice. It’s the rule.”