Family Lessons

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Pauline’s eyes widened. “That’s a perfectly brilliant idea, Holly.”

“What is?”

“Let him look all he wants. Let’s ask Mr. Brooks if he will serve on the Selection Committee. We can tell him he’s a needed objective viewpoint. He’ll meet everyone and see how well we handle challenges.”

Holly gave Pauline’s arm an encouraging grasp. “You do make a fine, fine mayor. I think it’s an ideal plan, but I won’t take one bit of credit for it. I think you, Mayor Evans, should extend a formal invitation to our new friend Mr. Brooks as soon as possible.”

Pauline turned and went back down the town hall steps. “No time like the present. I think I’ll head over to the hotel right now. Are you headed back to the schoolhouse, then?”

Holly peered down across the square to where she could see Rebecca coming out of the wire office with Sheriff Wright. She looked upset. Who wouldn’t be after having to wire such tragic news? “Charlotte and Amelia are tending to the children this morning. I think I’d best see to Miss Sterling. I’ll need to find out how the placement meetings are run, and she looks as if it’s been hard to send that wire.”

Pauline’s expression tightened. “Of course it’s hard. She’ll need a friend.” She turned to Holly. “Good thing she found one on the train.”

Holly smiled. “She did, didn’t she? Maybe some good can come out of this yet.”

“If you ask me, it already has.”

* * *

Rebecca dabbed her eyes as she and Holly walked toward the schoolhouse. “I knew that wire would be difficult to send, but I’d hoped to handle it better.”

“You’ve been through a tremendous shock. And you’re far from home. No one faults you for grieving Mr. Arlington’s loss. It’s the worst kind of news to have to wire home.” Holly took hold of both of Rebecca’s hands. “And now you’ll have the best kind of news.”

The OSS agent shook her head. “I still can’t believe they agreed.”

“How could they not? The Selection Committee will be formed this afternoon. Of course, you’ll need to be there to help us set up all the specifics.” She gave Rebecca’s hands a stronger squeeze. “Tomorrow at noon, your children will find their new homes right here in Evans Grove.”

“I don’t know what to say. I feel as if my insides have been untangled and re-tangled a dozen times over. To think two days ago I was packing them up to leave Newfield thinking we were nearly done. Or done for. Really, I was so worried that this lot would never be placed.” She put a gloved hand to her forehead. “We’ve so much to do. I don’t even know if they all have clean clothes.”

Holly swept a hand around the muddy grime that still permeated far too much of Evans Grove’s buildings and streets. “We’re quite used to looking at patches of mud in these parts. A washed face, some combed hair and an eager smile should do just fine. Should you go tell them now?”

“I want you to come, too. It was your idea after all.”

“Oh,” said Holly, fingering her cross necklace. Mama had given it to her for her sixteenth birthday, and she’d not taken it off since, loving it even more when Mama passed three years ago. “I don’t think it was my idea. Given to me, maybe, but not mine.”

“A good idea is only as good as the person who sees it through.”

“Well, then,” Holly said as she pushed open the schoolroom door, “what do you say we see this through together?”

“I couldn’t be more—” Rebecca’s consent was cut short by a high shriek and a flying stuffed rabbit that landed square onto her shoulder.

“Give that back!” came a girl’s voice.

“Make me!” came a deeper reply.

The sound of a squabble—and something large falling over—filled Holly’s ears as tiny Lizzie plowed straight into Rebecca and bawled into her skirts.

“Charlotte?” called Holly at the same moment Rebecca shouted, “Children!” She scooped up Lizzie and handed her the toy rabbit. The child buried her face into the poppet and continued crying frantic sobs.

Heidi, the young girl with the burn scars, walked up with eyes narrowed in disgust. “Patrick’s mean.”

Stepping into the schoolroom, Holly found poor Charlotte outnumbered and overwhelmed. Two of the desks were turned over, half the books were out of their shelves, and what meager belongings the children had were strewn everywhere. “What’s happened in here?”

“Amelia took sick and had to go lie down. They were doing fine until—”

“Patrick t-t-took Bobbins!” Lizzie howled.

“Did not!” countered Patrick as Rebecca put Lizzie down and stalked toward the dark-haired boy. “I found him, that’s what I did.”

“And then you kept him away from Lizzie,” Liam chimed in. “Just to be mean.”

“I thought he was g-g-gone.” Hugging Bobbins fiercely against her chest, Lizzie wiped a runny nose on her sleeve. “All gone and gone and gone.”

“Well, now, I can plainly see he’s not gone at all,” Holly offered in a cheerier tone, pulling Lizzie toward the bookcases. “Do you think he can help you and me and Heidi put these books back on the shelves?”

“You will all help set this room to rights,” Rebecca commanded, “most especially Patrick who will also sweep the room...”

A collection of groans and even a “nyah-nyah” filled the schoolhouse.

“And you will do so in fifteen minutes or less because I have a very important announcement, which I will not share until all is done.” To punctuate her point, Miss Sterling pulled out a filigree pendant watch and peered dramatically at its face.

“I’ll go get Mr. Patrick his broom,” Charlotte said, giving the boy a sour glare. “And Tom should be right behind him with the dustbin, since the two of them partnered up against poor Lizzie.”

Tom, as if it might improve his case, began a spontaneous coughing fit and sat down in one of the desk chairs.

“Thomas White,” Rebecca scolded, “I’d thought better of you. You’ll indeed be right behind Patrick with that dustbin and I expect Miss Sanders to find her floor the cleanest it’s been in years. Friedrich, line those desks back up where they belong. Liam, take Galina and Sasha out to the pump and wash whatever that is off their hands and come straight back.”

“I’ll take care of those hands,” Charlotte offered. “Liam can get the broom and dustbin from the closet in back and help the boys sweep.”

Liam bolted upright at the injustice. “What’d I do?”

“Did you do anything to stop this when it happened?” Holly asked.

Liam rolled his eyes. “Who can stop those two when they get somethin’ into their thick heads?”

“Qui tacet consentire videtur,” Holly quoted, pointing to the small narrow cupboard at the back of the schoolroom.

“Huh?” Liam’s mouth hung open.

“It’s Latin for ‘he who is silent seems to consent.’ A quote from Sir Thomas Moore.” Holly gathered up a stack of slates and handed them to Heidi. “These go up in that red box over there.”

“I didn’t con or sent to nothin’ those two did.” Liam yanked the cupboard door open and nearly speared Patrick with the broom. “I been trying to keep the peace all morning,” he muttered as he handed the dustbin to Tom. “But with nothin’ to do, it’s been mighty hard.”

* * *

Fourteen minutes of grumbling labor later, Holly and Rebecca sat the children at the lines of desks in the now tidied room.

“Thank you for showing Miss Sanders how you can respect her hospitality,” Rebecca began, her hands folded neatly in front of her as she stood before the children. “Yesterday was very difficult for all of us, and I know we’re all very sad about Mr. Arlington. We must all be brave and try to make the best of things.”

“I’m bored,” said Patrick as if boredom were akin to bravery.

“I’m thirsty,” said Tom, managing another cough for emphasis.

“It’s cold in here,” Galina whispered quietly to Holly.

Rebecca held up a silencing hand. “Enough! You’ll have other things to think about if you all will just listen to what I’m trying to tell you. Actually, to what Miss Sanders has to tell you.” She gestured toward Holly.

“The truth of the matter is that everyone in Evans Grove is glad we were able to help you yesterday. As you can probably guess, we’ve had some rough patches of our own since a big storm, and it feels good to do something nice for someone else, doesn’t it?”

Lizzie nodded in agreement, but for the most part the other children didn’t respond.

Holly rubbed her hands together, suddenly failing for the words to convey the right welcome. “Everyone is sad about yesterday, but we do have to make the best of things, and we...we think the best thing may just be for all of you to stay here.”

Tom slumped in his chair. “Who wants to live in a schoolhouse?”

Holly pursed her lips. Why was it suddenly so hard to say what she could barely refrain from shouting to Reverend Turner and the others? “When I say ‘stay here,’ I mean more than in the schoolhouse. I mean really stay. In homes, with families, as a part of Evans Grove. Everyone thinks you should live here and be part of us.”

Liam’s eyes held a tightly checked wonder, as if he wasn’t quite ready to believe what he thought he’d just heard. “You mean live here? For good?”

There was something in his tone, a tender disbelief, that clutched at Holly’s chest. “Yes, Liam, that’s exactly what I mean.”

“What Miss Sanders is saying,” Rebecca added, “is that you all are invited to a placement meeting here, rather than in Greenville, so that families right here can take you in. You wouldn’t have to go any farther.”

Galina ran her hand along the desk. Holly had seen her do the same thing to the bookshelves in what passed for a library along the classroom’s west wall. She guessed the little girl would have her nose forever in a book once she mastered reading, and the craving to help her do so was like a physical itch Holly could already feel. The girl’s huge dark eyes lit with a cautious excitement. “It’s nice here.”

Patrick crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s kinda small. What if Greenville’s better?”

“What if it’s worse?” Tom moaned.

Lizzie sat up straight in her chair and raised her hand, making Holly wonder where a girl in her circumstances learned such classroom behavior. “Yes, Lizzie,” Holly called on her, nearly laughing at the tot’s seriousness.

“Bobbins wants to stay.”

The smile Holly felt spread across her face seemed to radiate up from a glowing patch under her ribs. She couldn’t remember when anything had felt so right, when she’d ever been so sure of how God had put her world in order. Which was odd, considering everything that had happened. This surely was the “peace that passes all understanding” the Bible spoke of, for she ought to be worried about a thousand details, but wasn’t. “We want Bobbins to stay. You are all welcome to stay if we can find enough families to take you in. I’d be very happy if you all were placed right here in Evans Grove and came to school.”

“Now,” Rebecca said as she planted her hands on her hips, “you all know how this works. I’ll meet with the Selection Committee this afternoon. Tomorrow will be the placement meeting where you’ll meet with families. Miss Sanders, Mrs. Miller and some other nice people will come in this afternoon to help you get washed and dressed and ready to look your best.” She caught Holly’s glance out of the corner of her eye. “By God’s grace, this terrible event has brought you to your new home, and I hope you’ll all show our gratitude.”

There was a moment of stunned silence, as if the children still weren’t sure it was all happening. Then Lizzie parked her elbows on the desk with an enormous pout. “I want to wear my blue dress but it’s dirty.”

Patrick, scratching as if the soap had already found him, moaned. “Am I gonna have to take a bath?”

And so it began. Holly walked across the school yard to start the first of many pots of hot water as the schoolhouse behind her seemed to buzz from the flurry of activity inside. Her smile was steadfast and satisfied; this was how it was supposed to be. This was God’s plan for these children and for Evans Grove. His plan for her.

Chapter Six

Holly wasn’t half surprised when a knock came on her door while tending to the fourth pot of hot water. She pulled open the door to Charlotte Miller’s wide, hopeful eyes. “Is it true? Are we really going to place the children here?”

Holly had seen how the woman had fixed on Sasha Petrov, the little Russian tot with black braids and enormous blue eyes. “Don’t you think Sasha could find a good home somewhere in Evans Grove? Surely you must have some idea of a family that would welcome her.” She placed a hand on Charlotte’s arm and smiled. “I know I have a very good idea where Sasha would be happiest.” When the woman only smiled broadly in admission, Holly asked, “Have you asked Charles?”

“He’s agreeable, if a little worried. Children can be a handful.”

“Nonsense. I’ve seen the way you look at her, and how she takes to you. Sasha coming into your home was my first thought when I realized the children ought to stay here.”

Charlotte hugged the pile of linens she was holding as if hugging the child. “I know this is a foster placement, not an adoption—at least not yet—but she’s found her way into my heart already. How is that possible?”

With God, all things were possible. “Children can do that.” She ushered Charlotte in, motioning for her to add the towels to the pile collected on her table.

“How does it work?’ Charlotte asked as she put down the linens.

“I’m not sure of the details, but Charlotte, I don’t think there’s a soul in Evans Grove who would stand in the way of you and Charles taking in Sasha. God couldn’t choose better folks to watch over that little sweetheart.” Holly tested the water and then added another log to her stove. In ten minutes they’d have enough for yet another bath. “She’s taken to you, too.”

Charlotte’s sweet smile lit a stronger glow in Holly’s heart. “She has, hasn’t she?”

“Sasha will be the first child placed if I have my say. With you and Charles.” Holly pulled a towel and facecloth from the pile on the counter and set it on the stool next to the tub that sat in the middle of her floor. The girls were washing up here while Reverend. Turner had taken the boys into his home to clean up. “Sheriff Wright asked me to come talk to him for a moment. Would you like to give Sasha her bath here? She’s next in line.”

Holly told herself to remember the sparkle in Charlotte’s eyes if Miss Ward gave anyone trouble—and she surely would—in this afternoon’s Selection Committee meeting. No doubt about it—whether for now as foster placements or forever as adoptees—these children belonged in Evans Grove.

* * *

“Mercy,” Mason heard Miss Sanders exclaim as she peered into the office fronting the two small cells that served as Evans Grove’s jail, “is there room?” Small as the space was with four bandits, Bucky Wyler and Doc Simpson packed inside, the walls felt as if they would burst out any second.

“You quit your hollering now,” Bucky was shouting at one of the louder criminals over Mason’s shoulder. “What Doc Simpson’s got for you is bound to be better than what might be waiting for you tomorrow in Greenville.”