Change of Heart (14 page)

BLURB: 1912, Heart Junction, South Dakota.
Laura Windsor wants to become a mother to an orphan girl, but Gavin
Maitland won't allow it. His civic duty requires him to place
children from the orphan train with married couples only. As the
two of them struggle to do what is best for the girl who has won
their hearts, they find a special love of their own. But can two
people at odds ever join together?

Laura had waited an eternity for this day,
and now everything was happening so fast. The train was due any
minute.

Her tummy rumbled. She placed a hand over her
abdomen as if that would help to settle an empty stomach. She’d
been too excited to eat. This was the biggest day of her life.

Her daughter, yes, her daughter, a little
girl she’d never even seen, would be stepping down from the train
in the next few minutes. She was rushing things by thinking of
Angelina as her daughter already, but she couldn’t help it. In her
heart, Angelina Sanchez was already Laura’s very own little
girl.

She stretched to look down the tracks. No
sign of any movement, no sounds from the distance. She bit her lip
and closed her eyes. She needed to calm down.

She opened her eyes and looked around at the
other people waiting for the train. Farmers, mostly, a few other
people she’d seen around town during the last week since she
arrived in Heart Junction, South Dakota.

She set her focus on the landscape around the
tiny town. She’d never seen land so flat in all her life. Iowa had
been flat, in her estimation, but no where near as flat as
northeastern South Dakota. Both towns were set on the Great Plains,
but Heart Junction and land for miles around could easily be
referred to as the Great Plane.

Laura smiled at her pun, but she had to
occupy her mind with something besides her impatience at meeting
her new daughter.

She scanned the crowd again. This time a man
in a dark suit caught her attention. His attire set him apart from
the other men near him. He stood at least six feet tall. His
caramel-colored, thick hair was neatly groomed around his ears. His
shoulders looked as though they could carry the weight of one of
the boulders that hindered the plows on the prairie.

The man glanced at Laura and pinned his gaze
to her when he caught her staring at him.

Laura froze for several moments until the
movement of a farmer a few feet in front of her sliced the line
that held her fast to the handsome man’s gaze.

The whistle of a locomotive chipped at the
frozen air of mid November, and Laura’s heart began to melt.
Angelina, her very own little angel, would be in her arms
momentarily.

Laura wrapped her arms around her sapphire
wool coat. She wondered if Angelina was dressed warm enough, if
she’d had enough to eat on the train, if the little girl was worn
out from her long journey. New York was such a great distance from
South Dakota. Angelina’s adjustment wouldn’t be easy. No one knew
that better than Laura.

“Good day.”

Laura looked to her right and found the
handsome man whom she’d noticed earlier. “Hello.”

“You’re waiting for the Orphan Train to
arrive?”

Laura smiled and nodded. “My daughter is on
the train. I can’t wait to meet her.”

He returned her smile, his medium-brown eyes
twinkling. “You’re going to take in one of the needy orphans, a
little girl to foster? How wonderful.” He stared at her a
moment.

Laura thought his gaze would melt her right
where she stood. “Yes,” she said, her expression sporting
uncharacteristic demureness.

The sound of the train whistle broke their
interlocking gaze.

Laura turned toward the tracks. “She’s here!”
She looked at the man next to her.

He put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m Gavin
Maitland.”

“Laura Windsor.”

He drew his hand back and bowed slightly
toward her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He slipped on the black
wool coat he had been holding on his arm. “Until we meet
again.”

“Yes, Mr. Maitland. So nice to meet you.”

He bowed once more. “Best to you and Mr.
Windsor.”

The locomotive’s whistle screamed through the
air. Mr. Maitland didn’t hear Laura clarify that there was no Mr.
Windsor. By the time the whistle quieted, Mr. Maitland was twenty
feet away.

Laura turned her attention to the arriving
train. She watched as smoke and steam billowed around the trail of
cars. When the mass of iron stopped, the conductor jumped down from
one of the cars and lowered the steps.

The first person off the train was a
severe-looking woman, well past fifty. The rotund woman, maid or
matriarch, wrapped her charcoal woolen cape tightly around her
shoulders. Her white hair blew in the chilling breeze. She stood at
the bottom of the steps calling for the children to disembark.

Frightened faces from five to fifteen exposed
themselves to the prairie air, one child at a time. The dowager
below them called each by name and ordered them to form a line next
to the train. Within a few minutes, a line of seven children
fidgeted close to the tracks.

Bitter memories tugged at Laura’s heart. She
remembered exactly what it felt like to be one of those lost,
little souls. Deep within her heart she wished that each of the
children who’d come so far would find new families who could love
them. She knew only too well how bitter life can be without
love.

A little girl, her eyes cast downward,
stepped onto the outer deck of the rail car. Long dark curls hung
around her face.

“Chin up, child,” the older woman
ordered.

The little girl lifted her face and surveyed
the crowd.

“Angelina!” Laura cried.

The girl looked at Laura.

All the breath left Laura’s body. She knew
she’d pass out.

“Down the stairs with you,” the dowager
scolded.

Laura’s senses returned. “She’s not going to
talk to my little girl like that,” Laura mumbled. She darted
through the crowd to the dark-haired waif. “Angelina,” she said
softly, smiling at her precious daughter.

“
Si
,” the child said.

Turning to the severe woman, Laura said, “She
is Angelina Sanchez, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” the woman said, looking down her nose
at Laura’s diminutive five-feet, three-inch stature.

The woman’s five extra inches and stocky
build did nothing to intimidate Laura. “I am her mother, Laura
Windsor. I’ve made all the arrangements with the agency in New
York.” She turned to Angelina and pointed to herself. “
Tu
mama.
”

Angelina’s eyes grew as she stared at Laura’s
smile.

“You needn’t speak Spanish to the child. We
made sure she could speak English before we brought her here.”

Laura lifted her eyes to the elderly woman.
“I want to make her feel at home, Mrs.--“

“It’s Miss,” the woman said, raising her
hand. “I’ve dedicated my life to caring for urchins such as these.
By my hand and God’s these children have received better care than
any of them have earned.”

Laura’s jaw became iron. “Earned? No child
needs to earn good care. A good home is the birth right of every
child in this free country.”

“Orphans are different, my good woman.”

“Yes, they are,” Laura agreed. “Orphans have
suffered unbearable loss. They deserve more love and kindness and
understanding than is ever issued to them.” She turned to Angelina.
“And I have an ocean of love to give this sweet child.” She took
Angelina’s hand. “Come with me,
preciosa.
”

The spinster grabbed Laura’s arm. “She’s a
sickly one, you know.”

Laura squeezed Angelina’s hand. “I know all
about her health problems.” She glanced down at Angelina, then back
at the woman. “I will take very good care of her.”

“Of course.”

Laura glanced at the line of children
standing next to the train. She’d been one of them seven years
before. She wished again that these children would find good homes
instead of the life of servitude she was relegated in the home
where she was placed.

A tear trickled from her eye. How she wished
she could take all of them home with her to fill her house with
love.

She glanced down at Angelina. She stooped
next to her. “You’re very pretty, Angelina. Bella,” she said,
touching the child’s cheek.

Angelina smiled sheepishly. She touched
Laura’s face. “Bella,” she said.

Laura bit back tears. Her father was the last
person to tell her she was beautiful, ten years ago, right before
he and her mother became fatally ill.

She reached into her pocket and took out a
peppermint stick. “For you, Angelina.”

“
Gracias, Madrina.
”

Laura stroked the child’s hair. “I’m not your
godmother, darling. I’m your foster mother for now. In a year or
so, once we’ve met the guidelines of the agency from New York, I’m
going to adopt you. Then I’ll be your true mother. Now and always
you are going to live with me, and you can call me Mama. Will that
be all right with you?”

Angelina lifted her eyes to meet Laura’s. “I
live with you?”

“Yes. Would you like that?”

Angelina looked away. She savored her
peppermint stick as she thought over Laura’s proposal. When she
turned back to her new mother, she shrugged her shoulders. “You
have a Children’s Home like in New York?”

“No, darling. There will be only you and I,
no one else.”

Angelina lifted Laura’s hand to her face. The
girl warmed Laura’s fingers with her rosy cheek and smiled.

A wordless, perfect response, easily
understood in any language. Angelina made it official. Laura had
found her daughter.

Though their hearts had sealed their pact,
there was still the law to satisfy. Once Laura had retrieved
Angelina’s one modest bag of belongings, she went to find the city
official for Heart Junction in charge of orphan placement. She
needed to sign the legal papers which would place Angelina in
Laura’s care.

Laura hadn’t noticed anyone else taking
children from the train, yet, when she arrived at the table outside
the train station where the city official was taking signatures for
promises to give the orphan train children proper homes, she found
a line of several people waiting to sign contracts.

It seemed everyone ahead of her was tall. She
couldn’t see who was issuing the contracts, but, then, what
difference would that make? Whoever it was, in a few minutes the
law would be just as satisfied as she and Angelina were with their
new alliance.

Laura bent down toward Angelina. “Is the
candy good?”

Angelina giggled and shared the scent of
peppermint that lingered in her mouth. “Candy good.
Tengo
hambre, Madrina.
”

Laura stroked Angelina’s soft, long coffee
curls. “I know, sweetheart. As soon as we’ve finished here, I’ll
take you home and get you something warm to eat. I know how hungry
a child can get riding for days on the train.”

A horseless vehicle passed through the
street, a mere two dozen feet from the boardwalk. Angelina watched
the strange machine travel up the street.

Laura watched with her daughter. “It’s a sign
of the future, Angelina, machines doing the job God gave animals to
do.” She took a deep breath and stood. “I don’t like it much, but
then,” she said, glancing at the locomotive before looking back at
Angelina, “sometimes change is good. Trains travel much faster than
the stages that used to come through this part of the country
before either of us was born.” She squeezed Angelina’s hand. “And
look at the two of us.” She bent and kissed Angelina’s cheek.
“We’re in for some wonderful changes in our lives.”

Angelina threw her arms around Laura’s neck.
“Change, different. Here is different from the city.”

Laura laughed. “Like cheese and peppermint.
Very different.”

“Excuse me,” a deep voice called. “I’m
waiting, Mrs. Windsor.”

Laura’s gaze darted from Angelina toward the
husky, male voice as she stood. “Mr. Maitland. You are the city
official handling the placements?” Laura stepped forward on the
boardwalk to the table outside the railway station.

“Yes. A smile lit his striking, masculine
features.

Laura stepped forward. “Where do I sign?”

Mr. Maitland looked around her as though he
were searching for something.

“Is anything wrong?” Laura asked,
confused.

“I don’t see Mr. Windsor. He must sign the
placement papers too.”

Relief washed over her. For a moment she
thought there might be a real problem. “You needn’t bother looking
for a Mr. Windsor. There isn’t one.”

“You’re a widow?”

“No, I’ve never been married. But this has
nothing to do with my caring for Angelina. I telegraphed the
Children’s Home in New York. Everything has been worked out.
Angelina is to be placed with me. When the one-year waiting period
is over, I fully intend to adopt her.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Please, Miss
Windsor, sit down,” he said, motioning to the chair across from his
table.

Laura sat. She lifted Angelina onto her
lap.

“You’ve seen this handbill, haven’t you?” he
asked, holding up the paper announcing the arrival of the orphans
from the Children’s Aid Society of New York.

“I saw the announcement at the post
office.”

“Then you are aware that there are
restrictions as to whom these New York orphans can be placed with.
I’m afraid Angelina Sanchez cannot be placed with you.”

Laura shook her head. “You’re mistaken. If
you have restrictions, they don’t apply to Angelina and me. They
would apply only to those orphans who come here without having made
arrangements ahead of time with the Children’s Aid Society.”

He shifted uncomfortably and cleared his
throat. “I’m afraid what’s contained in this bill,” he said, waving
the paper in his hand, “applies to
all
orphans arriving on
the train. It states very clearly in black and white, ‘Persons
taking these children must be recommended by the local committee.’
You, Miss Windsor, would never be recommended by our
committee.”