by Merry Farmer
Josephine paused. There was something else in Libby’s eyes, something that looked a little like guilt. Josephine pushed her sadness aside in favor of motherly responsibility. “Yes, Teddy is a gentleman. I approve of him.”
Libby burst into a relieved smile.
“But do you know where your brother is?”
Libby’s smile faltered, and her cheeks flared pink. “No, ma’am.”
Josephine arched a brow. “Elizabeth Chance, have I ever given you a reason to lie to me?”
Several of the patrons of the boarding house glanced up from their breakfast to watch. Across the table, Myrtle grinned and shook her head. The younger children popped their heads up as though something interesting were going on.
“I swear, I don’t know where he is,” Libby went on without looking up. “Exactly.”
“But in general?”
“Oh! I know.” Herbert sat straighter on the bench across the table from the Chance kids. “He said he was going to get a job. Right?” He checked with Libby for conformation.
Libby glared at him, closing her fist around her fork. To Josephine’s surprise, Freddy and Muriel frowned at their playmate. It was touching how loyal the Chance children were to each other, but Josephine wasn’t sure this was the time for loyalty.
“Luke is only fifteen,” she said, continuing around the table with the sausage. “He’s too young to get a job.”
“I had a job in a factory back East when I was twelve,” one of the men at the far end of the table said. “Bottle factory.”
“I was taking in sewing with my ma when I was fourteen,” a tired, middle-aged woman added. She sent an apologetic look Josephine’s way, but not apologetic enough to take back what she said.
Josephine squared her shoulders and sniffed. “Child labor is a blight on this country, if you ask me. I’ll not have any children of mine—”
She stopped, her whole body going rigid. She was at the opposite end of the table now, and as she glanced across to the Chance children, her heart bled. How was she supposed to live without them?
She had to. Somehow. That was the only answer. An unmarried woman of forty couldn’t become a mother overnight. She cleared her throat and continued on.
“I plan to visit the Methodist church this morning to speak to Rev. Martin about finding homes for…” Her speech faded to nothing. She had to clear her throat yet again to continue on. “I’d like for you children to come with me so the reverend can see you for himself.”
“Me too?” Judith asked, brightening.
“Yes, dear, of course.” Josephine managed a smile somehow.
“Oh.” Libby’s shoulders sagged. “It’s just that…well…Teddy.”
Josephine finished doling out sausages and took her seat by Libby’s side. “That’s all right, dear. You go on your walk with that young man. I dare say you may find yourself a different sort of home than your siblings before too long.”
Her words were meant to be encouraging, but Libby paled and stared at her plate. A moment later, she set her fork aside, looking downright green. Josephine had only taken a few bites before Libby stood, wiping something from her cheek, and rushed away from the table.
Josephine’s breakfast seemed to turn to ash in her mouth. She could only manage a few more bites before she set her fork down as well. Heavens, when did doing the right thing for the sake of innocent children become so hard?
“It’s okay.” Beside her, Muriel patted Josephine’s hand. There was far more wisdom in little Muriel’s eyes than Josephine could possibly have imagined. “Luke will get a job,” Muriel went on in a whisper. “He’ll make a home for us. And Libby’s Teddy can come stay with us too.”
Josephine’s throat closed up. “Teddy has a job in a logging camp far, far away from here. Logging camps are no place for small children.”
She didn’t mean for her sudden thoughts to be spoken aloud, or for them to cause Muriel’s smile to vanish. It would have been a beautiful thing if Libby and Luke could have taken care of their small family, with or without Teddy’s help. But any way Josephine looked at it, some or all of the children would end up in grave danger or as drudges, working at the mercy of someone unscrupulous. And even if they did manage to avoid poverty…she wouldn’t be a part of their lives.
“Never mind,” she said, trying to make her voice happy. “We have a busy day ahead of us, meeting new people and getting to know Oregon City.”
That seemed to appease Muriel, but even after breakfast was finished and the plates were cleared away and the dining room put to rights, the chasm in Josephine’s chest yawned. The children were in good spirits—Judith and Herbert more than Freddy and Muriel—as the four of them set out from Myrtle’s boarding house to the Methodist church. The day was sunny and balmy, which helped. It didn’t stop Josephine from feeling as though she was hauling a hundred pound bag of rocks through the streets. If only Pete were there to help, but he had his own affairs to sort out back at the hotel.
“Ah, this must be it,” Josephine said as they approached a simple, white church.
“Yay!” Herbert yelped in excitement and rushed up the steps.
Judith let go of Josephine’s hand and rushed in after him. Freddy and Muriel held back. As soon as they stepped into the dim interior of the church, a tall, middle-aged man in simple clothes stepped away from the pulpit and headed down the aisle to greet them.
“Good morning. You must be Miss Lewis.” He extended his hand to Josephine. “I’m Rev. Martin. Myrtle said you might stop by to see me this morning.”
Rev. Martin had a kind smile and eyes that engendered trust, and yet it was still an effort for Josephine to return his greeting with a smile. “Rev. Martin.” She nodded and shook his hand. “I assume Myrtle told you of my dilemma with the children?”
“Yes.” He smiled down to Muriel. Muriel inched closer to Josephine, hiding against her skirts. “What a journey you children have had.”
“And it’s time for that journey to be over.” Josephine’s voice cracked. “Excuse me.” She raised a hand to her face, willing herself not to cry. Rev. Martin seemed like a good man. The children would be safe with him. Her children would be safe with him.
“Ah.” Rev. Martin rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish look coming to his eyes. “Well, you see, the thing is, Myrtle explained that you have a young boy and a young girl,” he glanced over his shoulder to where Judith and Herbert were looking through hymnals at the front of the church, “who are on their own.”
“Yes.” Josephine nodded, the faintest glimmer of hope—irrational as it was—buzzing in her chest.
“And that you have a family of four, two of which are nearly adults, that must not be split up,” Rev. Martin went on.
The hope in Josephine’s chest grew stronger—and even more irrational—at the regretful look that came to the reverend’s face.
“Hmm. You see, I know of two families that would be willing to take the boy and the girl.”
“Oh, thank heavens.” Josephine pressed a hand to her chest.
The reverend raised a hand in caution. “But I honestly doubt you’ll be able to find any members of my congregation who are able to take on four children, two of them older.”
“Oh?” A smile filled Josephine from the inside out.
But no, this was unfortunate news, wasn’t it? The Chance family would still be homeless and drifting. They wouldn’t have anyone to take them in and love them.
Because they already have that, a voice whispered at the back of her mind.
She must have waited too long to say anything. Rev. Martin shifted, clasped his hands behind his back, and said, “If it’s all the same to you, I know the families I spoke to earlier would like to meet Miss Judith and Mr. Herbert as soon as possible.”
“Yes, of course.”
“I can have their things fetched from Myrtle later.”
“Yes, yes, I think that would work. Judith? Herbert?”
Josephine moved to let go of
Muriel’s and Freddy’s hands—only half aware that Freddy had swallowed his boyish pride to grasp her hand as she spoke to the reverend—and headed up the aisle to the other two orphans.
“Judith, Herbert, I’m happy to tell you that Rev. Martin here has found families for you.”
Both children lit with excitement at Josephine’s pronouncement.
“Really?” Herbert exclaimed. “Real parents who really want me?”
Rev. Martin had followed Josephine up the aisle and now knelt beside the pew where the two children played. “Yes indeed,” he said. “Would you like to meet them?”
Herbert and Judith exchanged looks, then said, almost in unison, “Yes, please.”
Goodbyes were quick. Both Judith and Herbert were too young to have a sense of the grandness of their luck. They each gave Josephine a quick hug and said their goodbyes to Freddy and Muriel. In no time, Josephine was back in the sunlight of the streets of Oregon City, Freddy and Muriel clasping her hands as if they would never let go. Judith and Herbert may have been overjoyed with what just happened, but the two Chance kids seemed traumatized.
Josephine’s heart ached as though she’d taken a rifle blast square in the chest. She led the two children to a bench that had been conveniently placed under a tree and sat with them.
“Judith and Herbert will be happy.” She scrambled for a way to say the things she needed to say, even if they broke her heart. “They will have parents who will love them and care for them, and maybe give them baby brothers and sisters. You want that too, don’t you?”
“We already have brothers and sisters.” Freddy pouted.
“Yeah, and we already have parents that love us,” Muriel added. She glanced hopefully up at Josephine.
It was all Josephine could do not to dissolve into tears right then and there. “I wish that was true.” Her words came out strangled. “But sweetheart, I’m too old to be a new mother.”
“No you’re not,” Freddy argued. “You’re fine.”
“And you’re not a new mother. We’ve been your kids for months and months,” Muriel added as though it was years and years.
“But darlings, I’m a single woman, a spinster,” Josephine said.
“Pete will marry you.” Freddy was so convinced that he smiled.
How did she explain to a child that Pete was his own man and set in his ways? How did she tell them that he hadn’t asked her to marry him or even hinted that that’s what he was thinking? And how did she explain that she longed for just one smile, just one kiss that would tell her he might be able to settle down after all? That he might love her?
It was too painful to continue to think along those lines. Instead, she searched for other silver linings in the clouds all around them.
“Maybe Libby will marry her Teddy after all, though it’s far too soon for them to rush into something so serious,” she said. “And perhaps, in time, Luke will find a job and be able to support you all.”
“He will, I know he will,” Freddy said with perfect confidence.
“He’s our brother,” Muriel added.
“And that means that what you need for now is a set of temporary parents,” Josephine reasoned on. “Or perhaps simply a home where you can stay and be cared for until Luke comes of age and Libby is settled.” She brightened. “Yes, that’s what you need. A temporary home until your older siblings can support you.”
“And until you and Pete get married?” Muriel suggested.
Josephine’s rising hopes sang over the idea. And yet, there was no guarantee that would ever happen.
“Let’s concentrate on finding you a place to stay first.” She stood, taking each child by the hand and starting off into the streets of Oregon City once more.
An hour later, Josephine had a mixed bag of results. Oregon City had a surprising lack of orphanages and homes for children. She’d had a few offers from suspicious sorts who had assessed either Freddy or Muriel or both and offered to take them off Josephine’s hands right then, but Josephine would have rather died than give her precious ones to the likes of those sort. She eventually took the children over to the hotel where her friends were staying, partially in an attempt to find Pete and rope him into helping with the painful process. But Pete had his own set of problems.
“He’s gone to look for work,” Estelle explained as she settled Freddy and Muriel around a small table in the hotel’s restaurant for tea. The manager from the day before was nowhere in sight, and Freddy and Muriel were too disheartened to cause any sort of trouble. “He left first thing this morning,” Estelle went on.
Josephine sighed. “I suppose a man needs steady work to feel useful.” Still, she wished Pete wasn’t so quick to rush out and find it. If he’d just waited for her, perhaps the two of them could have accomplished both of their errands together. Perhaps they could have talked, could have said what they were each feeling, could have…
It was no use. If Pete was going to declare himself, he would have done it already. Josephine scolded herself for holding onto dreams. The sooner she let go and moved on, the happier they’d all be.
Which was a big, fat lie, but it was the best she could do.
“I suppose I’ll just have to continue the search on my own,” she told Estelle.
“If Pete comes back to the hotel, I’ll tell him you were looking for him,” Estelle said, waving after Josephine as she left.
With a heavy heart, Josephine continued her search around Oregon City. She laughed at the irony of the position she found herself in. There she was, wandering in an unfamiliar town, searching for a home for children her heart didn’t want to give up, searching for a man she desperately wanted to admit her feelings for…even searching for a too-young man who probably thought he could solve his siblings problems on his own.
To her surprise, who she found was Libby and Teddy.
“Miss Lewis!” Teddy called to her from the porch of a house near the waterfront, snagging Josephine’s attention as if he had a hook.
“Teddy? Libby.” Josephine turned her steps in their direction, stepping up onto the porch.
“Libby tells me that you’ve been searching for a home for her siblings,” Teddy began.
Josephine prayed that the young man didn’t judge her for it. Then again, it felt downright silly to worry so much about what a man half her age thought of her. Still, she answered, “It’s for the best. I’m just an old maid with no one to support me but my niece in Denver City.”
Teddy exchanged a look with Libby. It was the sort of look that made Josephine wonder what they said about her when the two of them were alone. At least it wasn’t angry or critical.
Teddy turned back to her with an understanding smile. “A friend of mine, Mrs. Montrose, was telling me earlier that she’s heard of a woman down by the river on the other side of town who takes in orphans.”
“Really?” Josephine wasn’t sure if she should smile or deflate with disappointment.
“That’s what Mrs. Montrose says. She heard of the woman—Mrs. Fielding—in passing at the general store the other day. We can’t vouch for her, but I thought you might want to explore that option.” Teddy looked to Libby for approval as he finished.
“If she does take in orphans, even on a temporary basis,” Libby added. “It would give us time to…to come up with a plan.” She blushed and glanced down to where Teddy was holding her hand.
Josephine’s brow rose. So it seemed that Libby was moving very fast indeed, now that she’d met Teddy. It was difficult for Josephine to decide if that was a bad thing or if the sweet young woman was smart to strike while the iron was hot. Like she should have when Pete first smiled at her.
Josephine took a breath and shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Mrs. Fielding, you say?”
“Yes.” Teddy nodded. “Although I think Mrs. Montrose said something about needing to make an appointment with the woman in order to tour the orphanage.”
“I’ll have to do that, then.” Josephine nodded. “Thank
you, Teddy.” She turned to go, but called over her shoulder, “You take care of my Libby, you hear?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Teddy grinned from ear to ear.
Ah, young love! It was a beautiful thing.
At least one thing was beautiful in this mixed-up journey of her life.
All morning Pete had been hearing the same thing.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Evans, but we’re looking for men who are…more nimble.”
“I would hire you, Mr. Evans, but how fast can you climb a tree?”
“Well, Mr. Evans, I think I could come up with a clerical job, if that’s what you’d like.”
“No, that’s not what I’d like.” Pete swore under his breath as he turned away. He swiped his hat from his head and rubbed his forehead on his sleeve. Why was it so dang hard for a man with a few gray hairs to make his way in the world? He’d been hauling supplies and trekking through the wilderness before half of the men who had turned him down were born.
Which was part of the problem.
Grumbling under his breath but refusing to call himself old, he stomped down the road from the yard where the logging recruiter had set up his wagon. A whole line of men stretched into the street. Most of them had a full head of hair, thick arms, and strong backs. Not one of them had half the experience Pete did.
Pete suppressed a sigh and headed toward the saloon. It was damned depressing, that’s what it was. It wasn’t about the money either. He had enough of that to get by. How was he supposed to hold his head high and give Josephine something to be proud of if he couldn’t—
He stopped short as he caught up with his thoughts. What did Josephine Lewis have to do with anything?
There was no point holding out against the answer.
Everything.
He lowered his shoulders and continued on to the saloon. He was a damned fool for keeping his thoughts to himself where Josephine was concerned. No, not his thoughts. His feelings. Not that he knew what to do with feelings anyhow. They were inconvenient on the trail, where folks might die around every corner and where a cool head was needed to keep everyone in line.