Circle of Love(36)

Frances knelt and put her arms around the little girl. “You’ll have a new life with people who’ll love you. Try to forget the unhappiness of your old life. Will you?”

Caroline nodded agreement, but tears rolled down her cheeks. Frances kissed her goodbye, tears blurring her own eyes. Were Caroline’s fears real? Would her father try to find her? Frances hoped and prayed that only the best would come to this frightened child.

Margaret bounced up and down as she said goodbye to Frances. “Someone did want me after all!” she exclaimed. She clung to the hand of her new foster mother, smiling as though all her wishes had been answered.

Frances said one goodbye after another, each time hoping that the right decision had been made and both the child and the foster parents would be happy. But how can we really know what lies ahead for these children? she asked herself. All we can do is hope for the best.

Finally the room had cleared of the people who had come either to take a child or to gawk. Frances asked Mrs. Judson to go through the papers so that Frances could make sure the information was complete and accurate. Seventeen of the thirty children had been chosen. “Thanks be that Emily Jean and Harriet Averill are going to the same family,” Frances said to Mrs. Judson.

Mrs. Judson ran her finger down the list she’d drawn up. “Nelly Babcock and Lizzie Schultz—the babies and toddlers are always chosen first. Philip Emery, he’s just four and cute as a button. He was bound to be a first choice. Next we’ve got Frank Fischer, David Howard, Will Scott, Marcus Melo, and Sam Meyer, which is no surprise. Farmers need boys who can help with the heavy chores.”

Frances felt a stab of concern. How well she remembered Mike’s terrible treatment at the hands of Mr. Friedrich! She said, “Mrs. Judson, you vouched for the people who chose the boys. You said you knew them. They’ll be good to the boys, won’t they? Surely they didn’t come here just to get free farm labor?”

Mrs. Judson looked solemnly at Frances. “Have you ever lived on a farm?”

“Yes,” Frances answered.

“Then you know the hard work that’s involved. Rise before dawn and work until after dark. Every member of the family pitches in.” She relaxed, patting Frances’s hand. “The people who chose the boys are all good people. They won’t abuse the boys. They’ll treat them like their own children.”

Frances nodded.

“By the way, Will won’t live on a farm,” Mrs. Judson said. “The couple who picked him—Sara and Otto Wallace—raised eight boys, all of them grown or off to school, and they’re lonely. Otto is a well-respected doctor in a nearby town. Will may eat plenty of chicken, because sometimes the only way people can pay their doctor bills is with chickens or eggs, but he’ll have a happy life.”

Mrs. Judson went on with her list. “Caroline Jane Whittaker, Margaret di Capo, Mary Beth Lansdown, Nicola Boschetti, Lottie Duncan, Alexander Hanna, Virginia Hooper—” She stopped and smiled. “That Virginia’s a caution. I heard her tell her foster parents that she’s really a princess who was switched with another child at birth. Well, knowing the Johnsons and how much they wanted a little girl, they’ll undoubtedly treat her like a princess.”

Frances thanked Mrs. Judson and her committee members, then gathered the children who were left.

Eddie sidled up to Frances, a worried look in his eyes. “I was a hero back at the train,” he said, “but I guess no one was lookin’ for a hero. I heard two people say they wanted a quieter, more well-behaved child, not a lad of the streets like me.”

Frances smoothed back Eddie’s hair from his forehead. Such a tough boy, but with such open, vulnerable eyes. Eddie reminded her so much of Mike when he was young. “We’ve got two more stops,” she said. “You’ll have a family soon.”

But Eddie’s confidence was ebbing, she could tell. “The lads back home would have been proud of me,” he said.

“And rightly so. I’m proud of you, too,” Frances told him.

Mrs. Judson stepped up to Frances and waved a list. “Here’s where the remaining children will be put up for the night. These are all good people who’ll feed them supper and breakfast and have them at the station tomorrow morning in plenty of time to catch the train.”

“Thank you,” Frances said.

“As for you and the boy here,” Mrs. Judson added, lowering her voice, “Sheriff Malloy and his wife are putting you up at their house.”

“That’s very kind,” Frances said.

Mrs. Judson’s eyes widened. “Oh, it’s not to be kind,” she said. “That robber who was on the train with you—”