“Seth Connally,” Frances prompted.
“Yes, Seth Connally. As I was saying, he’ll figure it out, if he hasn’t already, that the two of you probably had something to do with setting the sheriff after him and his brothers. Since there’s nothing to say that this Connally won’t come back, the sheriff thinks you’ll be a lot safer under his own roof.”
13
SARAH MALLOY, WHO was as soft and plumply rounded as a feather bed, smiled and hugged Frances as they were introduced. “It’s a wonderful thing you’re doing, helping to find parents for orphans and waifs,” she said.
“I’m glad I was able to rely on the committee,” Frances answered. “I’d never have been able to figure out, among all those people, which would be good parents and which wouldn’t.”
Sarah’s eyebrows rose and wiggled, as though she knew secrets no one else could know. “Hummph!” she sniffed. “I’m afraid the committee can be counted on just so far.”
“What do you mean?” Frances asked.
“Think about it. Is Zeke Colley, who owns a feed store, going to tell you not to give a child to a good customer, even though he knows the man is after a free farm worker and nothing more? Or will Effie Jerome snitch on her best friend, even though she knows her friend has a temper that can’t be matched and has been known to take a heavy switch to unruly children?”
Frances pressed a hand against a painful knot that had suddenly appeared in her chest. “If I’ve made some mistakes, maybe it’s not too late to correct them. If you’ll give me names—”
Sheriff Malloy tossed his hat at the top of a coat rack that stood just inside the front door of the small, cozy living room. “Now, Sarah, don’t go stirrin’ up Miss Kelly about somethin’ that didn’t happen. I was there. I saw who got the children, and they were all good, law-abidin’ folk.”
“Whatever you say,” Sarah said pleasantly. She busily straightened a lacy antimacassar that sprawled over the back of a nearby upholstered chair, as if she wanted to show she didn’t really agree with her husband. “Miss Kelly—” She beckoned toward a short hallway. “Put your hat and baggage in the first bedroom. You’ll share it with our girls. Eddie can sleep on a pallet in front of the fireplace in the living room. Then join me in the kitchen. I’m making fried chicken and mashed potatoes for supper, and you can lend me a hand if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Not at all, you are very kind, Mrs. Malloy.”
“You may call me Sarah, dear.”
“Then please call me Frances,” she replied.
Frances made sure that Eddie was comfortable before she went to help Sarah with supper.
“Will Seth Connally come back, like they think?” Eddie asked.
“No, he won’t,” Frances answered. “He’s too smart to try a senseless act like that.” She ruffled his hair as she added, “All you’ve got to worry about is how much of Mrs. Malloy’s chicken and mashed potatoes you’ll be able to eat.”
Eddie relaxed enough to smile, so Frances left him and walked into the kitchen.
She had questions for Sarah, but she didn’t have to ask them. Sarah wanted to know about every child chosen, and she had comments to make about each set of foster parents. Frances was prepared to learn the worst, but with relief she soon found that Sarah’s remarks were no more damaging than the tittle-tattle that went on at church suppers:
“Oh, she makes out to be the frugal one, but it’s a fact that she sews fancy lace on her bloomers.”
“She won first prize with her apple pie, but it wasn’t her receipt at all. It was her sister’s.”
“A well-dressed feller came ’round, claimin’ to be his brother, and didn’t he have his nose in the air, but it turned out they weren’t brothers at all but second cousins, and the cousin had walked out on a wife and six children.”
Sarah glanced sidelong at Frances. “That robber that John thinks might come back—how did you get to know him?”
“He was a passenger in our car on the train,” Frances answered.
Sarah rolled her eyes. “You took up with a strange man on the train?”
Frances ignored the shock in Sarah’s voice. “No. I didn’t take up with anyone. Half a dozen adults sat in the seats at the rear of our car. Mr.… uh … Connally was one of them.”
“But he must have talked to you. He must have told you what he planned to do.” Sarah was so intent on hearing what Frances had to say that the chicken pieces sputtering and sizzling in the pan began to burn.