hearth as if seeking warmth, encouragement there. “It’s just the falling asleep. She can’t face the night.”
His mother left out the other worrisome problem, which was that Camie would not look at him. Or suffer him to come near her. He clenched his jaw and then exhaled. “Mother, I appreciate all you do for Camie. Maybe we should do what Mrs. Crandall—”
Louise hissed with disapproval. “Ty, you know my opinion of that woman.” She jerked her head as if warning someone away. “I try to be charitable, but I think much of the cause of this worrying behavior lies at her doorstep.” She pressed her lips together.
Ty looked out into the night. The question of what to do hung unspoken and unanswered between them.
That evening, Felicity stood at the kitchen window, looking out at the two children huddled together on her back porch like stray puppies. She had been tempted to overrule Vista and let the children come inside without cleaning up first. But Felicity hoped Vista would become a part of her work here, and she didn’t want to do anything that might upset the housekeeper.
By staying here and keeping the house safe and cared for after Mrs. Barney’s death, Vista had proven herself to be honest and hardworking. It would be hard for a stranger to town like Felicity to replace Vista. Trust took time to forge.
And Vista was right. Basic cleanliness must be established for the benefit of all the children who would come here to live. Cleanliness was healthy. A home with children—Felicity hoped to have many children here in the future—must be a house with firm, sensible rules.
Felicity wiped the perspiration on her forehead with the back of her hand. It was a warm, humid night. Sleeping outside was probably more comfortable than sleeping inside. Still, homeless children sleeping on her porch grieved Felicity, causing a gnawing ache deep within.
Donnie snorted in his sleep and opened one eye. She realized he could see her through the window because he wiggled one of his little fingers as if waving to her. The boy, barely more than a toddler, hadn’t spoken a word to anyone all day. Though nearly moved to tears, she grinned and wiggled her little finger back at him. The child closed his eyes and fell back to sleep.
Felicity sighed. And then reminded herself that she must stop this new habit. Sighing sounded lonely and a bit sad, pensive even. She caught herself just before she did it again.
Dear Father, please bring me children, the lost ones, the ones that the evil lion Satan wishes to devour. Give me strength and wisdom to carry out the work Thee has given me. I will depend on Thy promise from Psalm 37. I will trust in Thee and do good.
Felicity turned from the window to go upstairs before she remembered one more request.
And Father, please give me the courage I will need in court tomorrow so that I may right the wrong committed against a child—a wrong that has been committed in my name.
Chapter Two
The next morning after breakfast with Katy and Donnie on the back porch, Felicity stood in the kitchen. The heat and the humidity were already growing uncomfortable. How could the calendar say September when it felt like July?
While the children pulled weeds, Felicity and Vista discussed the grocery list. Underneath these routine concerns lurked apprehension over what she would be facing in town today. Felicity glanced at the kitchen wall clock. She needed to get busy and set off for town. The lawyer had told her to be in court at 9:00 a.m. The coming test tightened her midsection. She was pitting herself against the powers of this world.
“What are you children doing here?” A strident female voice flew through the open window, followed by squeals of pain.
Felicity burst through the back door and sailed over the grass toward the woman, her heart outracing her feet. “Stop! Let them go!”
A tall, slender, very well-dressed woman had Katy and Donnie each by an ear. The sight sent anger rushing through Felicity like a hot spring.
The woman was brought up short and glared at Felicity. “These children can’t possibly belong here. This is a respectable neighborhood.”
Pulling them from the woman’s grasp, Felicity drew the children to her. “Katy and Donnie are my guests.” She gasped for air, trying to catch her breath after running in the sultry air.
“Guests?” The woman’s eyes narrowed as they took in every detail of Felicity’s attire and face. “Who are you?”
“I am Felicity Gabriel. Who is thee, please?” Standing very straight, Felicity offered her hand, which was ignored—a sting that tried Felicity’s temper.
“Thee?” the woman snapped, her face crimping up. “Are you some kind of Quaker?”
“There is only one kind of Quaker that I know of.” Taking another sip of the humid air, Felicity tried to keep her irritation out of her tone. “And yes, I am a member of the Society of Friends.”
“Well, I am a God-fearing Christian and this is a respectable neighborhood. We don’t want riffraff from the riverfront here.”
Felicity could think of nothing Christian to say to this so she merely looked at the woman. She knew she wasn’t to judge others, but…
“Why are these children here on Madison Boulevard?” The woman pointed at the ground as though it were sacred ground that Katy and Donnie were not worthy to walk upon.
Felicity gripped her spiraling temper with both hands. “They are here because they had no one to feed them and nowhere to sleep,” she replied in an even tone. “They are doing a few jobs for me in return for food and shelter.”
“You are not from around here,” the woman said, her attractive face reddening like a bull about to charge. “So you don’t know that we keep the river rats and their spawn down at the wharf. We don’t let them roam through town—”
Felicity gritted her teeth. “I met Katy and Donnie at the wharf and invited them home because they are hungry and homeless orphans. I hope to invite many more to come here.” Felicity quoted, “‘Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction.’ So since thee is a God-fearing Christian, I would think thee would be pleased.”
The woman leaned forward as if trying to either read Felicity’s mind or intimidate her. “Are you telling me that you’re starting an orphanage here?”
Felicity’s forced smile thinned. Her hold on her temper was slipping, slipping. “I think ‘orphans’ home’ and ‘orphanage’ are unpleasant titles. They sound so institutional and unkind. This will be the Barney Home for Children. I am going to welcome homeless children into this house and make sure they are kept warm and well fed. So yes, thee can expect to see many more children here in the future.”
The woman began making a sound that reminded Felicity of a dog growling at trespassers. “The law won’t let you disrupt our quiet neighborhood with an orphanage.”
Churning with righteous indignation, Felicity patted the children’s backs, trying to reassure them, and felt their spines sticking out, no padding of fat over the knobby vertebrae. This woman saw only their bare feet and ragged clothing, not their need. Father, help me make her see these children with Thine eyes.
“Mrs.
