Rory's Promise (13 page)

Sister Eileen did as she was told. “Everywhere else the parents have been eager.” As the blinds blocked the women's view there was a howl of disappointment. The tapping became a pounding and the train rocked on its narrow track. Sister Eileen said, “But these women sound—”

“Desperate,” Rory said. She had a bad feeling about Clifton.

Sister Anna conferred with Mr. Swayne. She wanted to step outside and ask the crowd not to frighten the children. Mr. Swayne dissuaded her.

“Sister, that crowd sounds ugly. You shouldn't go out there. I'll ask for Father Mandin and I'll explain that we'll be handing out the children at the church.”

Sister Anna frowned. “They aren't packages, Mr. Swayne. Nevertheless, I see your point.”

“For safety's sake, you might want to lock the door
behind me,” he said.

Mr. Swayne shrugged into his coat and opened the door. The noise was deafening. Sister Anna gestured to Rory, who sprang forward, closed the door, and slid the bolt. Rory stood with Sister Eileen watching Mr. Swayne calm the crowd. With wide gestures and a raised voice he promised that there were plenty of children to be placed, but only later at the church. Slowly, the crowd backed away from the train.

Violet reached for Rory's hand and squeezed harder than she ever had.

Rory squeezed back. “Violet, everything will be fine. Sister Anna won't let anything happen to us.” She glanced over at Sister Anna hoping for reassurance. Sister Anna leaned against the wall, her hands clasped together, her lips soundlessly moving. Her complexion was ashen. Standing in the center of the car, Violet clinging to her, surrounded by thirty-nine frightened children, Rory fought hard not to panic. They were in hell and the one person Rory had ever relied upon was praying.

“Everything will be fine,” Rory lied.

“L
ET ME IN
!”
M
R.
S
W
A
YNE POUNDED ON THE DOOR.

“Sister?” Rory asked Sister Anna, who hesitated.

“Now!” Mr. Swayne's voice was angry.

Sister Anna gave Rory a sharp nod and Rory slid back the bolt. As Mr. Swayne shoved the door open, Rory had to jump aside.

Following Mr. Swayne was a tall, bald man, who wore plain black robes that brushed the ground. A stout woman tried to come in too. As if they had practiced it, Mr. Swayne slammed the door shut and Rory slid the bolt with a bang.

The pounding of many fists pummeled the now-locked door. Mr. Swayne opened a window and yelled, “If you don't stop right this minute, there will be no orphans for anyone!”

Rory wasn't the only one who breathed a sigh of relief when the pounding stopped and she saw the women retreat. The quiet women waiting at the back of the crowd were already gone. She hadn't noticed them leave.

“Mr. Swayne, sir,” she asked. “Who are they?”

The bald man behind Mr. Swayne was the first to speak, but his answer was not in English.

“What did he say?” Rory asked. She stared at his mouth, a circle on a head as round as a baseball, spouting out nonsense syllables.

“What is happening?” Sister Anna said impatiently.

Mr. Swayne held up his hand to quell all conversation. “Those women insist that Father Mandin here”—he pointed to the man who had begun speaking—“give them orphans.”

“But I don't understand,” said Sister Anna. She turned to Father Mandin. “The families have already been chosen.”

Mr. Swayne nodded. “Of course, Sister. The priest has the lists you made in New York.”

“Then why? Why did they attack our train?” Sister Anna said, her voice rising with each question.

“
Comment? Pardonnez-moi, je ne parle pas anglais.
”

Rory pulled on Mr. Swayne's sleeve. “Doesn't Father Mandin speak English?”

“It appears not,” Mr. Swayne said. “Now hush, Red.”

Rory gathered Violet close—this didn't bode well for the orphans.

Sister Anna stared at Father Mandin with dismay. “But all of our arrangements are with him! How can he not speak English?”

Mr. Swayne shrugged. “Someone at the church speaks— or at least writes—English. We've seen the letters.”

“Pardon me, Mr. Swayne, if I don't find that reassuring,” Sister Anna said.

There was a gentle knock on the door. Father Mandin hurried to usher in an efficient-looking woman dressed in black. Her dark hair was gathered in a tight bun and she wore a bright blue shawl over her shoulders.

Father Mandin spoke to her. “
Madame Chacon, j'ai besoin de vos compétences en traduction.
”

Mrs. Chacon spoke to Father Mandin. “
Je suis ici pour vous aider, mon Père.
” Then she turned to Mr. Swayne and offered her hand. “My name is Mrs. Chacon. I help the good Father in the church. Our regular priest is visiting family in Belgium and Father Mandin is his replacement. This is his very first posting. He came all the way from France.”

“You speak French?” Sister Anna asked, relief in her voice. She nodded. “Spanish is my first language, and the most important in our parish, but I also speak French and English.” Sister Anna extended her hand. “It is nice to meet you, madame. I am Sister Anna Michaella Bowen. I'm in charge here.”

“At least you hope you are,” Rory muttered under her breath.

Sister Anna continued, “Mrs. Chacon, please ask the Father about that mob. Who were those women who attacked our train?”

He responded in rapid French. “They are not ladies of our parish,” Mrs. Chacon translated. “They don't concern
us.”

Rory snorted. “They should.”

“Rory, your tone!” Sister Anna darted a scolding look at Rory, then she turned to Father Mandin and Mrs. Chacon. “Nevertheless, the child makes a good point. I've never seen such a thing in all my years of placing children.”

Father Mandin was speaking again. “Forget them,” Mrs. Chacon translated. “Our parish families—good Catholics all—are very eager to meet their new children. They will join us at the church in one hour.” Mrs. Chacon added, apparently on her own, “I've also arranged a meal for all of you.”

“An hour?” Sister Anna asked, incredulous. “But we only just arrived.”

Rory spoke quickly and urgently for Sister Anna's ears. “Sister, the children aren't ready. Nothing is ready.”

“I agree,” Sister Anna said. “We should wait until tomorrow to prepare the children's things.”

Father Mandin hastened to reassure Sister Anna. “Every family agreed to provide clothing for each child, so the children will be fine tonight,” Mrs. Chacon said. “You can deliver their things when you visit the families.”

Mr. Swayne clapped Father Mandin on the back and said, “Let's just get the job finished. Sister, I'm starved and I'm sure the kids are too. We've been on this train too long.”

Rory silently chanted a prayer for Sister Anna to refuse. All her plans to rescue Violet, vague as they were, had been formed by her experience at the previous stops. Clifton was different, from the barren hills that glowed to the pack of
wild women on the platform. To figure out how she was going to stay with Violet, she needed to know much more.

Father Mandin scowled at Sister Anna and barked a few words in French, translated by Mrs. Chacon. “I've made the decision, Sister. We distribute the children tonight.”

Her lips pressed together, Sister Anna nodded obediently.

“But Sister.” Rory tugged on Sister Anna's sleeve. “You're the one in charge … you're …”

Sister Anna shook her head ever so slightly. Rory stepped back, drew Violet close, and tried to accept the inevitable.

Father Mandin spat out more French. Mrs. Chacon said, “Father Mandin has asked that I go ahead now to make sure the dinner is ready. We only have a few wagons to transport you all. Can some of the children come with me now?”

Sister Anna shook her head. “No, no one is ready …”

If they had to go, Rory preferred to arrive first, like a scout in
Wild West Weekly.
She could go ahead to gather information and make things safer for Violet. “Sister, I could go,” she said. “And a few others. That makes three less for you to manage.”

“Not without an adult,” Sister Anna said automatically.

“Sister, I'll be with her.” Rory pointed to Mrs. Chacon. And she whispered for Sister Anna's ears only, “I'll keep my eyes open so you know where we stand.”

Sister Anna hesitated. Rory could see the conflict in her face. Sister Anna didn't want to encourage Rory's independence but then again, she needed Rory's help. “Very well,” she relented. Then she whispered, “Tell me right away
if you see anything that worries you. And don't wander off on your own!”

Rory nodded solemnly.

The Sister consulted her list and said, “Take Violet, William, and Josephine with you.”

As Rory buttoned coats on the three children, Mr. Swayne unbolted the door and swung it wide open. The train had been so stifling, Rory welcomed the cold air. Mr. Swayne jumped out of the train and then turned to help Rory. As she stepped to the platform they were both startled by a woman's deep voice.

“They're such lovely children.” It was the stout woman, the ringleader of the mob emerging from the shadows next to the small station. “Wait until I tell my husband. Mr. Gatti is the best butcher in town and wants a boy … exactly like him.” She pointed at William with her thick fingers that looked like sausages. William took a step back, behind Rory's legs. Rory looked to Mr. Swayne; for once she had no idea what to say or do.

Then Mrs. Gatti spied Violet. “Ah, there's the redheaded one. She's just like a little doll. I'll also take her.”

Rory opened her mouth to protest but Mr. Swayne forestalled her. “Ma'am, as I said before, we'll be doing the adoptions at the church,” he said. He lifted Violet off the train and deposited her in front of Rory. Suddenly, Mrs. Gatti pushed past them to grab hold of Violet. Before Rory could stop her, she had snatched Violet away.

“Rory!” Violet cried. “Help me!”

“I got you!” Mrs. Gatti cried. “First come, first served!”

“Give her back!” Rory yelled, putting up her fists. A man's hand closed over her shoulder, his fingers digging into her skin.

“Rory, behave yourself,” Mr. Swayne said. “I'll handle this.” Still holding Rory back, he said to Mrs. Gatti, “Ma'am. That child belongs with us.”

Mrs. Gatti squeezed Violet tighter and she glared at Mr. Swayne. “She's mine.”

“Oww!” shrieked Violet. “She's hurting me.”

“Let her go!” shouted Rory.

Mrs. Gatti did not loosen her grip. “I saw her first, I get to keep her!”

“Rory!” Violet screamed, reaching for Rory.

Rory twisted her body loose from Mr. Swayne's hold and wrenched Violet away. Mrs. Gatti lost her grip on Violet except for one bit of her skirt.

“But I want her!” Mrs. Gatti said.

“You can't have her!” Rory cried, tugging Vi's skirt out of Mrs. Gatti's hands. Violet sobbed and held on to Rory as though she was drowning and Rory was her lifeline. Rory wrapped her arms around Violet, whispering that it was all right.

Mr. Swayne took Mrs. Gatti's arm and forcibly led her away, explaining that the Sisters would be here for several days.

Violet held tight to Rory's neck, her tears soaking the front of Rory's dress. Rory trembled as she rubbed Violet's back to soothe her. “Hush, Vi, the bad lady is gone.”

“I hate this place!” Vi sobbed.

“Me too,” Rory said grimly as they hurried toward the horse-drawn wagon, followed by Mrs. Chacon and the other children. She hesitated before climbing up. Sister Anna had made it clear that Violet would go to a family this very night. She had promised that Rory would approve, but Sister Anna wasn't in charge any longer. So what were her options? Rory couldn't stay on the train; Sister Anna wouldn't permit it. They didn't know the town and Rory didn't like what she had seen of it so far. Once they arrived at the church, Violet's fate was out of her hands. In her arms, Violet shuddered and sighed, reminding Rory that the most important thing was Violet's happiness. When she weighed the unknown family against the likes of that Mrs. Gatti, maybe the family would be the safer choice. And as for Rory, if she couldn't wheedle her way into Vi's new home, then she could get a job and stay nearby. Violet wouldn't be alone. Rory exhaled sharply and lifted Violet up to the wagon seat. Although her plan was full of holes, Rory felt better now that she had settled on it.

She followed Vi onto the hard wooden bench next to the driver. Mrs. Chacon, William, and Josephine sat behind them. “Name's Jake,” the driver said, settling in his seat and holding the reins casually in one hand. He had a face like dried leather. “Are you one of the orphans?”

“Not exactly,” Rory said. “My sister is, though.”

The driver gave her a quizzical look. “Then aren't you an orphan too?”

“I'm not an orphan because I can take care of myself,” she said. “I don't need a family like my little sister does.”

“OK,” he said with a shrug. He clicked at his horse and shook the reins. The wagon lurched forward. The horse kicked up clouds of dust that hung in the air, coating clothes and hair with a thin layer of dirt. Rory shivered in the cool breeze. She wished she had a shawl like Mrs. Chacon's.

Rory looked back over her shoulder to see the train car, lit up against the twilight. She could see Sister Anna giving orders and the nurses scurrying to obey. With a snort, Rory thought that it was only the nuns and children who would listen to Sister Anna now. The priest was the boss. And Rory didn't know how to manage him at all. She couldn't even talk to him. At the Foundling Rory was sure of her footing, but here she might as well be standing on quicksand. She gave herself a little shake, reminding herself that she had a plan.

The wagon turned the corner and the train car was gone. Rory stifled a small cry, surprised at how bereft she felt. The moment she had left the safety of the train car, a crazy person had tried to steal her sister. That train car was the closest thing she had to a home right now. As the wagon rumbled down the narrow dirt road, it occurred to Rory that she had traveled on a taxicab roof, a ferry, a train, and a wagon. But she'd never been as scared as she was now.

Life at the Foundling in New York City seemed far away. She had thought the West would be like it was in
Wild West
Weekly
: wide-open spaces, majestic mountains, and frontier outposts. Nothing in the magazine had prepared her for this dirty little town. Rory had to face the fact that
Wild West Weekly
wasn't a reliable guide, which meant she knew exactly nothing. Never mind. She would learn quickly, as she always had. Wasn't she here, with Violet at her side? To keep Violet safe she would do whatever she had to. She squeezed Violet tight.