Circle of Love(17)

He removed his hat as he bowed and said, “Reverend Oscar Diller, ma’am.” As he waited for Frances to answer, his eyes shifted to the children, then back to Frances.

Surprised that so young a man could be a preacher, Frances smiled and politely answered, “Thank you for your help, Reverend Diller. I’m Miss Kelly, and I’m escorting these children to foster homes in Missouri for the Children’s Aid Society.”

“A highly commendable occupation, Miss Kelly,” he answered. “If I may assist you in any way, please don’t hesitate to request my services.”

Frances wanted to laugh at his formality. Surely he was putting on airs. This couldn’t be the way he always spoke. It didn’t seem to fit. And there was a familiar, telltale softness in his speech that Frances had caught. “Are you bound for Missouri? Do you come from there?” she asked.

Reverend Diller answered, “I grew up in Missouri but came east to study.”

With a parting nod he left Frances and sat with some of the children. Pulling down his hat brim to shade his forehead, he held little Philip up so that he could look out the window.

Frances was kept busy while the train was in the station. Some of the children wanted to change places. Some kept bouncing into the aisle. Harriet suddenly cried out and pointed to a man on the platform. “Look, Emily! There’s Papa!”

Frances looked, too, and saw a man leaning against a support, his head in his hands as he wept.

“I told you Papa would come!” Harriet said.

Emily strugged to get free. “I want to see Papa,” she insisted.

“No!” Harriet held her tightly. “Papa’s crying. He doesn’t want us to see him crying.”

Tears ran down Emily’s cheeks. “Why doesn’t Papa come and get us?”

“Because he can’t,” Harriet said. “Remember? He told us that he loves us and wants to keep us, but he can’t He has no money to take care of us.” Harriet burst into sobs. “He didn’t want to give us away. Really, he didn’t.”

Frances fought back tears. Memories of when Ma had given them to Reverend Brace to send west tore into her heart in a burning pain.

“I know how much it hurts,” she told Harriet and Emily. “When I was an orphan train rider, I had to leave my mother.”

But they didn’t even glance at Frances. Their gaze was riveted on their father, and they seemed to want nothing more than to look at him for what could be the last time.

A police officer entered the car and walked directly to Frances. “I was told these are orphans being taken to homes in Missouri. Is that right?”

“Yes,” Frances said. “We’re with the Children’s Aid Society, the group organized by Reverend Charles Loring Brace.”

The policeman touched the brim of his helmet. “Thank you, miss. Have a pleasant journey.” His eyes quickly swept over the group of children as he moved to the back rows of seats, some of which had been filled by other passengers.

As he bent to question them, Frances realized that the policeman had completely ignored Reverend Diller. Did the officer think the preacher is with us? Frances wondered. She shrugged. Well, what if he did? What difference does it make?

Outside, the conductor shouted, “All aboard!” The police officer had already left through the connecting door at the back of the car, and Frances could see the cluster of policemen who had come together on the platform. None looked pleased, and Frances wondered what they were looking for.

The engineer gave a blast with a train whistle that frightened Nelly and Lizzie into shrieks. The lurch of the train into motion nearly threw Frances off her feet, but she regained her balance and hurried to soothe the little girls. She held Lizzie as the train began to move faster and faster.

“Hooray!” Eddie yelled. “We’re off to the West!”

“And horses!” Sam shouted.

Amid the shouts and cheers from some of the children, Frances could hear Harriet’s sobs. “Oh, Papa! When will we ever see you again?”

The rows of tightly packed houses disappeared, and the landscape changed to low, rolling hills. For a short while the passing scenery of small farms and animals kept the children’s attention, but soon there were demands of “I’m hungry!” and “Please, miss, could I have a drink of water?”

“Aggie! I need you,” Frances called, and Aggie stepped forward quickly, pouring water into tin cups for each of the thirsty ones.

“Thank you, Aggie,” Frances said. “What would I do without you?”

Aggie didn’t respond, but her chin lifted in pride. She looked down at Walter and Philip, who were jostling each other to be next, and fixed them in place with a frown. “Any more pushing, and you won’t get water,” she said. She handed the cup to a wide-eyed, obedient Walter and added, “And don’t dribble!”