Circle of Love(33)

“Then what is a family?” Daisy asked.

Frances thought a moment before she answered. “A family is a circle of love,” she said.

“Love?” Lucy echoed.

Frances smiled. “That’s right. Love given and love returned.”

Lucy smiled and hugged her doll. “Did you hear that, Baby? Love is a circle,” she said.

As the train came to a stop, Frances could see a swarm of people outside, most of them staring at the train as though they were trying to see through the windows. A tall, broad-shouldered man strode toward the train, heading for their car.

The conductor opened the door and ran down the steps with his stool, but the tall man stopped him. Bounding up the steps, he entered the car, swept off his wide-brimmed hat, and spoke to Frances.

“Ma’am,” he said, “I’m Sheriff Malloy. I take it you are Miss Frances Kelly and you have a boy here in your care named Eddie Marsh?”

“Yes,” Frances answered. As Eddie stood trembling, clutching the back of the seat ahead of him for support, Frances automatically stood protectively between him and the sheriff.

“Eddie hasn’t done anything he shouldn’t,” Frances said firmly. “I can vouch for him.”

The sheriff smiled. “I didn’t mean to rile you. I shoulda said right off that I came to thank Eddie for the information he gave the telegraph operator. That was smart of you, Eddie. We got our robbers—three of them, that is—afore they hit the bank, and we got the Gladneys’ money and jewelry back.”

Solemnly he shook Eddie’s hand.

“Hip, hip, hooray for Eddie!” Sam shouted, but only a few of the children joined him. Most of them stared at the sheriff or at the people on the train platform who excitedly peered through the windows at them.

Frances cheered for Eddie, but as soon as she had the chance she asked the sheriff, “Which of the Connally brothers got away?”

“The one who rode the train,” the sheriff said. He quickly added, “But don’t worry. We’ve got men out lookin’ for him. We’ll soon round him up.”

“Poor Seth,” Frances murmured to herself. She knew Seth was deeply troubled. Would he ever get the chance to redeem himself?

“Are you all right, ma’am?” Sheriff Malloy asked. “You look kinda pale. It’s hot here, even for July. Is the heat botherin’ you?”

Frances took a deep breath, willing Seth out of her mind. “I’m all right,” she said. “But I would like to ask a favor of you. Will you escort us, please, as we march to the Methodist church?”

“I’ll be happy to, ma’am,” the sheriff said.

Frances turned to the children. “Pick up your luggage, boys and girls. We’ll leave this train and walk two blocks to the place where we’ll meet the people who have come to see you. Come on, now. Remember … you’re wonderful children, and I’m very, very proud of you. The families who’ll get you will be lucky, so hold your heads high and smile.”

As Frances climbed down the steps of the car she felt a strong pull at one side of her skirt. Caroline pressed so closely that Frances nearly stumbled.

Reaching down to stroke Caroline’s hair, Frances said, “You’re safe with me, love. Don’t be afraid.”

Caroline raised her head and surveyed the platform. “I looked and looked, but I don’t see him,” she whispered.

Frances knew that Caroline meant her father. “Take my hand,” she said, and pulled Caroline to a position at her side. “We’re going to meet the people who have come to find children to love.”

The sheriff easily cleared a path through the bystanders on the platform, but two women spoke loudly, and Frances could hear their remarks.

“Look at them little waifs.”

“I heard that some of them was left on doorsteps. Never had a proper father.”

“And some are picked up right off the streets of New York City!”

“Um-hum. And passed off as being proper as you and me, but we both know that living on the streets the way they did, they’ve got to be little criminals.”

“Maybe not all of them. Look at that little girl. Don’t she look sweet and pretty?”

“That little boy, too. Cute as a bug. But that big girl, now. You can’t say she’d take a beauty prize.”

A gentleman in a high collar asked the man next to him, “Which one of the children was the boy who saved the bank?”

“It’s gotta be that one who’s smiling and waving at us. He’s not shy at taking his bows. He heard you ask about him, I reckon.”

“Did the bank manager give the boy a reward?”