Although Aggie was being a little too stern, in Frances’s opinion, she left Aggie without comment and went to soothe Margaret, who had burst into loud sobs. Thirty children? Frances asked herself. It seems more like one hundred and thirty.
Margaret grabbed Frances and held her tightly as she said through her tears, “Jessie told me there are Indians in the West, and they’re probably going to kill us.”
“Well, there are,” Jessie said. “Mrs. Spitz, down at the butcher shop, told us what the Indians do to the people they capture. She said …”
It was all Frances could do not to clap a hand over Jessie’s mouth. There were people in every town who had to be the first to spread whatever terrible story they had heard, and unless Jessie was guided into another direction, she’d end up like Mrs. Garrett and Mrs. St John.
“We’ll have no more frightening talk like that, Jessie,” she said. “It’s true that our union soldiers are fighting with some of the Indian tribes, but the battles are farther west. There are no battles where we will be going.”
Margaret had stopped crying to listen. “Why are they fighting?” she asked.
“For the most part, they’re fighting over who owns the land,” Frances answered. “The Indians want to keep their land the way it was, so they want settlers and wagon trains and railroads to stay out. But there are many people in our government who feel we must expand our borders and settle the land coast to coast”
Margaret was curious. “Who’s right?”
Frances thought a moment. “I don’t know which side is right, and I don’t know how to make right out of what could happen. I only know that every day many immigrants are coming into the United States. As they look for land on which they can farm and graze sheep and cattle, they move farther and farther west.”
“Where they run into Indians!” Jessie added.
Frances took Jessie by the hand and led her to another seat. “I’m going to let you sit with Nicola,” Frances said, counting on Nicola’s tough good nature to keep her from succumbing to any of Jessie’s doomsday tales. “Belle, why don’t you come with me? Margaret needs a seat partner.”
She had no sooner resettled the girls when Reverend Diller joined her in the aisle. He smiled and said, “I overheard what you told the little girls. It’s obvious that you’re an intelligent woman. But you didn’t give them the whole story about Manifest Destiny. Why not?”
Frances tried to ignore his smile. She had enough to handle without adding a political discussion. “Reverend Diller, Margaret and Jessie are two frightened little girls, only eight and nine years old. I was not about to explain the theory of Manifest Destiny. I simply told them what they needed to hear,” she said.
“You need to tell them more about the expansion west. Otherwise they might think that the Indians have some kind of right to those lands.”
Surprised, Frances looked directly into his eyes. “Perhaps they do,” she said.
“Settlers are bound to move west and take over the land.”
“I know,” Frances said. “And they will. But can’t it be done without bloodshed?”
Jack and Alexander, shouting and punching at each other, rolled into the aisle at Frances’s feet, and she bent to separate them. When she finally cleared up the boys’ misunderstanding, Reverend Diller had left and was slumped in a back seat, long legs stretched out before him, with his hat over his face, as though he was snoozing.
Frances smiled. She was intrigued by the reverend’s strong opinions. If things hadn’t been so hectic, she would have enjoyed having a long, uninterrupted political discussion with him.
The noise was rising, and Frances knew it was time the children settled down. The train would soon be stopping at a depot, and she needed to make sure there were orderly lines as they visited the privy. She decided to count noses.
With her list in hand, Frances checked on each child. Then she checked again. There weren’t thirty children in the car. There were only twenty-nine.
“Sam! Marcus!” she called to the boys who had been sitting near Eddie. “Where is Eddie?”
“Don’t know, miss,” Sam said.
Marcus shrugged. “We haven’t seen Eddie for a long time.”
“Did he tell you where he was going?” Frances’s heart began to thump faster. Surely Eddie wouldn’t have jumped from the train.
“No, miss,” Sam said, but he didn’t meet her eyes.
Marcus squirmed and finally blurted out, “He said not to tell.”
“You must tell me,” Frances said. “I’m responsible for Eddie’s welfare.”