Twice Blessed (3 page)

“Hope he won't be trouble,” grumbled Lewis.

“I'm sure he has learned to be more careful,” Emma said, giving Sean a smile.

The lad looked away, glowering. She had never guessed such a young child could wear such an aged expression.

“Not the lad. Sawyer.”

“Why do you think he'll be trouble?” She wondered what the sheriff had noticed that she might have missed. Had she let Mr. Sawyer's concern about Sean dupe her as she had vowed never to be duped by a man … again?

Lewis shrugged. “Just a feeling. He shouldn't come into town and give orders as if he owns the place.”

Emma hid her smile as she twisted her hair into a single braid so it did not fly about her face. She should have guessed that Lewis would be annoyed by Mr. Sawyer's demands. The folks in town closely heeded the sheriff's counsel and trusted him to keep the peace in any way he deemed necessary. Now Mr. Sawyer had come along and questioned the sheriff's authority.

“He was upset,” she said.

“Why are you defending him? He was angriest at you.” He frowned. “It's not like you to have your head turned by fancy talk.”

She laughed as they reached the steps of the Grange building. The clapboards had been recently whitewashed.

“What's so funny?” the sheriff asked.

“Men! You accuse me of letting him wheedle his way around me, and he accused me of trying to wheedle my way around him.” She shook her head. “You're both completely wrong.”

“Miss—Emma, I didn't mean …”

She patted his arm. “I know.” She paused at the bottom of the quartet of steps that led up to the front door of the Grange. “If you've said what you wanted to say, I need to get back to the store. I had customers when I ran out, and the wagon from the station should be delivering supplies soon.”

“Reverend Faulkner said he wanted to speak with you before you went back to work.”

“About what?”

The sheriff shrugged again. “He didn't say.”

Emma climbed the steps and went into the Grange. Everyone was acting a bit strange today. Maybe it was spring fever. She hoped so. Spring seemed late this year, for snow had fallen earlier in the week.

The Grange Hall was extraordinarily warm, so she guessed the stoves had been lit at dawn. She had forgotten the talk about orphans coming to Haven from … where? New York City, someone had told her. That would explain Sean O'Dell's Irish name and accent.

Walking across wood floors that Mrs. Parker, the sheriff's mother, kept brightly polished, Emma guessed every resident of Haven and the outlying farms must be crowded into the room. Most of these people were members of the Grange, but work and the distance into town kept some folks from attending every meeting. She nodded to the people she passed, but looked for Reverend Faulkner.

Her steps faltered when she saw almost a score of children clumped together at one end of the hall. They stood on the stage. It was a section of the floor that was raised a single step and served as the podium for the Grange leaders during the meeting. Some of the children were staring about in curiosity while others stood with their arms around each other as if they feared they were about to face a hungry lion. Their clothes were obviously new, and she guessed they had been given these outfits when they left New York to wear when they reached the end of their journey. No luggage was to be seen, and she wondered if the children had anything other than the clothes on their backs.

“Poor dears.” Alice Underhill, the schoolmistress, shook her head in regret. “Abandoned on the streets in New York City, left by parents too drunk to care about them.”

“Or maybe too sick,” Emma replied. “Those buildings in the city are said to be so close that no air or light can reach the inner rooms.”

“What is
she
doing here?” Alice's tone became venomous, surprising Emma, because her friend usually was pleasant to everyone she met.

“She who?”

Alice pointed to a woman who was speaking to a little girl at one edge of the platform. “She is one of
those
folks.”

Emma understand instantly. Most of the residents of Haven avoided anyone who called River's Haven home. The strange community had been forming around the time Emma had arrived here. They had bought a handful of farms on several of the hills overlooking the river and now lived there in a community. Occasionally they came into Haven, and Emma had done business with them, ordering supplies from Chicago or Louisville or Cincinnati. She found them to be quiet and courteous, and they always paid cash for what they ordered.

She had no problems with them, but she knew others in Haven did. It was whispered throughout the village that the people in River's Haven had peculiar rules about marriage and raising their children. So many stories flitted about that Emma had stopped listening to them.

She had to admit the woman talking to the child looked as prim as a puritan with her gown of the same unremitting black as her hair. The two men accompanying her made no motions that suggested the three of them were more than neighbors.

When she saw a woman she did not know speaking to the trio, she asked, “Who's that?”

“Mrs. Barrett from the Children's Aid Society in New York City,” Alice Underhill replied. “She and her husband oversaw the care of the children during the train ride here. You don't think she's considering giving one of these children to
those
people. Someone should set her to rights right away.”

Emma pretended not to see the glance the schoolmistress gave her that suggested Alice thought Emma was the perfect one to do that. “Have you seen Reverend Faulkner?” she asked.

“The reverend! Just the person to speak to Mrs. Barrett to let her know how wrong it would be to place out a child with
those
people.” Alice scanned the room. “Oh, dear! I know he's here, but I don't see him.”

“He was talking with Judge Purchase when I came in,” Mrs. Parker said as she poked her way into the conversation.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Parker,” Emma said, smiling.

“I didn't expect to see you here, Emma.”

“I walked over here with Lewis,” she replied, noticing how Mrs. Parker's eyes lit up. The sheriff's mother had been trying to persuade her son to call on Emma for more than a year. Lewis had once, but they quickly decided it was worthless to try to be more than good friends, especially when he was sweet on Reverend Faulkner's oldest daughter. “Lewis told me I'd find Reverend Faulkner here.”

Alice gasped, “What's the sheriff doing here?”

“One of the children decided to look around Haven, and Lewis found him before he could get lost.” That was almost the truth. Mrs. Parker was the most prodigious gossip between Cincinnati and Louisville, so the less she knew of Sean O'Dell's escapades, the easier it would be for the boy to settle here.

“Dear me. I do hope these orphans aren't going to upset Haven.” Mrs. Parker rubbed her hands together.

“I suppose all the ones old enough will be coming to school.” Alice smiled. “That will keep them out of trouble.”

“They probably won't be in school until after the planting is done,” Emma replied.

Alice nodded. “That's true. They're here to learn to work hard instead of wasting their lives drinking cheap whiskey. Look, there's Samuel Jennings. Well, well, I hadn't thought an orphan train would bring him into town.”

Emma looked to where a tall man stood off to one side. He was wearing a grim expression that could not detract from his classic features. His clothes, like many people's in the Grange, shone where hard work had worn them thin.

“Do you think,” continued Alice, “that he'll say anything to anyone or just stand there?”

“He's shy.”

“Too shy,” Mrs. Parker said. “I don't know if I've ever heard him speak. I swear he wouldn't shout fire in a burning building. I wonder what he wants.”

“Probably someone to help him on his farm,” she replied as she watched Mr. Jennings walk over to where two children held the hands of a younger child between them.

Mrs. Parker rolled her eyes. “Don't wish that on any poor child. It must be as quiet as the grave out there.”

Emma excused herself. She did not want to listen to more gossip about the people who were generous enough to open their homes to these children who had nothing and nobody. Like the people in the River's Haven Community, Mr. Jennings was a good customer at the store. She found the man who had a farm just down river from Haven to be quiet and unassuming and always polite.

Quite the opposite of Noah Sawyer.

Bother! Why was she even thinking of that boorish man? Yes, he was handsome, but there were other handsome men in Haven, and they had not cluttered her thoughts like this.

“Emma!”

She had to fight the yearning to throw her arms around Reverend Faulkner, who had rescued her from her own uneasy thoughts. Hurrying to where he stood at the opposite side of the room from the River's Haven residents, she said, “Lewis Parker told me you wanted to speak to me.”

“I most certainly do, but first …” He turned to the tall man standing beside him. It was not, she realized with astonishment, Judge Purchase. This man was much younger than the white-haired judge who presided over any cases heard at the county courthouse since he had taken over from the late Judge McShane. With a smile, Reverend Faulkner introduced the man as Mr. Barrett.

“It's a pleasure, Miss Delancy,” said Mr. Barrett, who resembled a cadaver with his gray, sunken cheeks.

She wondered if he avoided the sunshine. Maybe he lived in one of those horrible tenements in New York City. Affixing a smile of her own, she answered, “The pleasure is mine, sir. I am delighted to meet someone who cares so much for these poor children's welfare that you have traveled all this way with them.”

“Reverend Faulkner was telling me how you jumped to the defense of young Sean O'Dell.”

“He did no harm other than adding a bit of excitement to the afternoon.”

Mr. Barrett chuckled, the sound dry and rasping to match his appearance. “You have a generous heart, Miss Delancy. Very few people would be willing to have one of these children come into town and create a hullabaloo.”

“Emma does have a kind heart,” Reverend Faulkner hurried to say. “However, I believe we're embarrassing her, Mr. Barrett. Her face is becoming quite red.”

“I don't expect praise,” she said, wishing she could find a way to change the subject to why the minister had wanted to speak with her, “for something I believe many people would have done.”

Reverend Faulkner exchanged a glance with Mr. Barrett. She could not guess what it was meant to convey until the minister cleared his throat and said, “As you came to the lad's defense with such speed, Emma, Mr. Barrett and I thought you might be able to find work for young Sean in your store.”

“What would I do with a lad of his age? He can't be more than nine years old.”

“A year older than that, according to the lad, but many of these children have no idea of when or where they were truly born.” The minister sighed. “I learned that from speaking with Mr. and Mrs. Barrett. These poor youngsters have suffered more than any child should.”

“I understand that. What I don't understand is why you would think I should take Sean into my home.”

He smiled. “Emma, the lad is obviously not afraid to learn about new things, and he seems eager to know more about Haven.”

“Or get himself into trouble.”

“But with the right guidance to put all that childish energy into the proper direction, he could be of great help to you in the store.” Again he looked at Mr. Barrett before saying, “I've heard you say on many occasions you'd dearly love to have help at the store.”

“Help, yes, but you're asking me to be a mother to that child.”

Mr. Barrett shook his head. “That isn't necessary if you don't feel comfortable with making the boy a part of your family, Miss Delancy. These children are brought west in hopes of getting them the education and training for the future that they would never have the opportunity to get in New York City. Shopkeeping would be an excellent trade for the boy, for, as you have seen, he's eager to know more about the world around him. Unlike the other children, he hasn't shown interest in the farms we passed on the train. I believe he would be much happier living in Haven than on a farm.”

“Maybe Mr. Anderson at the livery—”

Reverend Faulkner intruded to say, “He stopped me on the street during the chase and let me know that I need not ask him to take in the boy.”

“Your store would be the perfect place for Sean, Miss Delancy,” continued Mr. Barrett as if neither of them had spoken. “Rather than as a member of your family, you could consider him an apprentice.”

Emma guessed he had repeated these words with slight variations many times over. “You're very persuasive, Mr. Barrett.”

“My job requires me to be so.”

“I
could
use help at the store. That is true, but it's also true that I know nothing about raising boys. I have only a sister.” She looked hastily away from Reverend Faulkner's kind eyes, not wanting him to guess she was not being honest.

The minister put his hand on her shoulder. “I knew we could count on you, Emma. Why don't you go back to the store while we talk to the boy?”

“So he might not wish to be at the store?” She could not keep the hope out of her voice.

Mr. Barrett shook his head. “We at the Children's Aid Society serve in a parental role, Miss Delancy, and it's a parent's place to make such decisions. Not the child's, for no child, especially one as young as Sean, can possibly make such a choice alone.”

“Go on back to the store,” Reverend Faulkner said. “We'll be there shortly with the necessary paperwork to have Sean O'Dell stay with you.”