Circle of Love(40)

In the distance a train whistle blew, and the children clustered more tightly around Frances. Jake, with Walter in tow, hurried to join his wife. “Come out with it, Effie,” Jake said.

Effie Kleinhurst raised her voice and spoke rapidly. “Please, miss. Walter is the child Jake and I have dreamed of having. Please … it’s not too late, is it? May we take Walter to raise?”

Frances smiled at Walter. “Is this what you’d like, Walter?”

“Yes,” Walter said, and he raised his arms to Jake. “Pick me up, Papa,” he said.

“I’ll vouch for the Kleinhursts,” Sheriff Malloy told Frances. “They’ve got a good-size farm, and they’ll make the boy happy.”

Jake’s face reddened with pleasure. “I’m gonna get Walter a pony,” he said.

Frances rummaged through her carpetbag, found the right papers, and, with the Kleinhursts’ help, filled them out just as the train chugged into the depot.

She hugged Walter goodbye and helped the other children up the steps into one of the cars. “It’s a short trip,” she told them. “We’ll be in Springbrook soon after lunch.”

While the children settled into their seats, Frances quickly glanced around the car. Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself as she realized she’d been looking for Seth.

Sheriff Malloy put the heavy basket next to the rack for baggage and shook Frances’s hand. “You be careful, now, y’hear?” he said.

“I will,” Frances told him.

“I’m willin’ to bet you haven’t seen the last of that young man.”

Frances didn’t answer, but she secretly agreed. Last night she’d been sure that Seth would wait until she’d arrived home—that is, if he decided to put in an appearance—but now she wasn’t so positive. Seth was impulsive, and he would be angry. It was possible that he’d intercept her en route.

“The conductor’s goin’ to watch out for you, and I telegraphed the sheriff’s department near Springbrook to keep an eye on you and the boy while you’re there,” Sheriff Malloy assured her.

“Thank you,” Frances said, trying to keep her voice from trembling. “But I don’t think we’ll have any trouble.”

“Maybe not,” Sheriff Malloy said, “but it’s best to keep an eye out for it and head it off before it gets started.”

Irrationally, Frances wanted to laugh after he left the railway car. The sheriff sounded as if he were reporting an approaching storm. In his own way, Seth is a storm, she realized, and for the first time she wondered what she’d say or do if he suddenly appeared.





14





THE TWELVE CHILDREN making the second lap of the journey were quiet and almost too well-behaved. Frances knew they were worried about having to go through the selection process a second time, and she wished it were in her power to ensure that every one of them would find a happy home. She told them stories she invented on the spot; she sang to them; and she made up riddles. She played a form of “I Spy with My Little Eye” with the farm animals and objects they could see from the windows, but those who joined in did so halfheartedly. It was obvious that their minds were on the coming ordeal.

At one point Frances felt that she was being watched, and she glanced up quickly. Near the back of the car, on the aisle, a pair of eyes looked back at her from under a flat, broad-brimmed black hat.

The man sat slumped down in his seat, his legs stretched out under the seat in front of him. A tattered Confederate jacket lay across his chest as a blanket, and its collar hid the lower part of his face.

Seth? Frances looked away. For a moment she felt faint, and her hands trembled.

“Miss Kelly, I’m hungry,” Daisy complained.

Her voice broke the spell, and Frances pulled herself back to the job at hand.

Frances opened the basket and let Aggie pass the food to the children. Frances’s mind raced. I’ll ignore him. The man couldn’t be Seth … or could he? If he is Seth, why is he here? What does he want? Maybe—if he is Seth—I can convince him to give himself up.

Frances gave a small groan. She couldn’t bear not knowing. There’s only one thing to do, and that’s confront him, she thought.

She straightened and took two steps down the aisle before she saw that the man had left. She walked to the empty seat, looking for Seth’s familiar carpetbag, but there was no sign that anyone had ever been there.

“Pardon me, sir,” she said to the gentleman in the high collar and tightly buttoned suit jacket who sat by the window. “Can you tell me, please, the name of the gentleman who was sharing this seat with you?”