we’re supposed to check in on the families in pairs. What am I supposed to do if you leave?”
Her face softened a minuscule amount but her voice was still firm. “You can find someone trustworthy here, I’m sure. Perhaps that young schoolmarm. She seems competent. I don’t know, but it’s no longer my concern.”
It was clear that she wasn’t going to change her mind and Simon refused to beg her to stay. The last thing he wanted to do was to ask the lovely teacher to spend hours riding out to rural homes by his side. But that was starting to look like his only option. “Fine, Miss Wright. I wish you the best and will pray you have safe travels.”
He whipped around and went straight to the hotel desk. It took several minutes, but he managed to convince the young man there to keep an eye on the children during their breakfast. Then he left the hotel and walked to the small school, where they would gather the orphans and prospective parents later. If he waited a bit, maybe he could intercept Cecilia before anyone else arrived and he could ask for her help in private. But, to his surprise, the door was cracked open. He peeked in and saw that Cecilia was already there. Tension tightened his shoulders.
Their first meeting yesterday had not been his best moment. Her stormy blue eyes and tall, slender frame had caught his attention and that was something he couldn’t have. Distraction led to mistakes. And he had too many young lives in his care to let mistakes happen. No, he had realized that his life traveling the rails would never mix well with women and marriage. So he had to keep his mind off them.
But it hadn’t taken any time at all to see that Cecilia cared about the orphans and getting them placed in good homes. Now that he found himself in a situation where he needed help, she might be his best prospect in this town. He had to pull himself together and keep her on his side.
Pushing away from the door frame, Simon cleared his throat to make his presence known. Cecilia turned, eyes wide with surprise. “Oh, I didn’t know you were here. I wanted to get an early start on clearing space so everything will be ready when the children arrive.”
Simon joined her near the front of the room and took hold of the other end of the desk she was getting ready to move. “Let me help you. I appreciate the work you and the town are putting into this. There aren’t many places that try this hard to make us feel welcome.”
Cecilia’s pretty smile distracted him for a moment and he almost smashed his toe on the leg of the desk. He tensed again. Another mistake due to distraction.
“We’re pleased to have you all here and want to make sure we show it. The residents of Spring Hill are quite proud to be able to help a few of those unfortunate street children.”
Swallowing a surge of irritation at her description of the children, Simon forced himself to remember that she meant well. Many people did, they just didn’t understand the experiences these children had already been through in their short years. But Simon understood all too well and he hated the pity in the voices of those who claimed they cared.
With some effort, he let the comment pass and helped her to carry the desk across the room. Cecilia had already shoved several up against the wall. He helped her move the rest of the desks and, in no time, the room was clear and ready for a crowd. Cecilia wiped her forehead with the back of one hand and stretched her shoulders. “Well, it looks like the hard part is done.”
Walking to the front of the room, Simon wished it could be that easy. The hardest part for him was still to come. “We’ll have the children line up here, where prospective parents can see them. Your approval committee will be present?”
She turned to point at the table they’d arranged in the back of the room. “Yes, and they’ve already selected a good number of families. We shouldn’t have any trouble placing out all of the children.”
Nervousness tightened Simon’s chest. Although many towns were able to approve parents by a committee beforehand, there was always a chance that one of the children would be placed in a home where they wouldn’t be treated well. He swallowed hard around the dry lump in his throat. He couldn’t bear to see any of the children abused. Like Michael.
Shaking off the unpleasant memories, Simon turned back to Cecilia. “I guess everything is in place, then. I’ll head back to get the children assembled and bring them over. But there’s something I need to ask you first.”
Her open expression and encouraging nod unnerved him. He wasn’t used to people being so trusting. “I was hoping you might agree to help me with visiting the orphans with their new families after they’re placed out. The Children’s Aid Society tries to assure that there are two adults evaluating each home. Unfortunately, Miss Wright has decided to leave immediately and travel to Chicago, so I’m left without the second opinion I need to make complete reports.”
She dropped her gaze and pursed her lips. “And all you need is for me to visit the children with you?”
Was helping him—and the children—so distasteful that she had to use that tone? Maybe she wasn’t as caring and agreeable as he’d thought. He fought to keep his tone friendly. He needed her help, after all.
“Yes, that’s it. I usually wait several weeks so they have time to adjust to each other. Then we would make a brief stop at each home to interview the children and the parents. You would need to record your impressions about the suitability of each placement. Nothing more.”
She tapped slim fingers on her chin as she considered his request. Finally she met his eyes, lips turning up in a hint of a smile. “Certainly, I’d love to help the children in any way I can.”
Simon nodded, his throat turning dry. One thing he hadn’t considered until that moment was that he would have to be careful, spending so much time alone with Cecilia. The last thing he needed was a woman thinking he would put down roots and settle in a frontier town like this just for her. But he had Cecilia’s agreement to help him complete his task. He would have to pray she would look out for the children’s best interests and not hinder his work.
Cecilia offered to help him get the children, so together they left the building and walked back to the hotel.
The town was the epitome of frontier life with its uneven planked boardwalk, wide dirt streets and rough buildings covered with flimsy façades. Here and there, he caught a glimpse of buildings that were nicer, put together with more thought and effort, but a large part of the town seemed to have been thrown together in a hurry.
At least the hotel was a respectable place. The Thomas House, run by a kind older couple of the same name, had been a good choice for their stay. As he and Cecilia approached the front door, an older man came out and held it open for them.
Simon was surprised to see the children already lined up inside. Each one had on the new clothes the residents of Spring Hill had provided and carried a small bag with their meager belongings inside. The oldest girl, Ada, held baby Clara in one arm. They stood just the way Miss Wright had insisted on, with their chins held high like little soldiers.
Simon gestured for them all to come outside and line up in front of the building. Once they were in place, he walked in front of the row, examining each child. All ten faces—four boys and six girls—were scrubbed clean and their clothing was neat. But almost every set of eyes showed at least a hint of fear.
He stopped his pacing and tried to smile at each of them. “Well, children, it’s time to go and meet your new families. I expect each of you to behave well. Address adults as ‘sir’ and ‘ma’am.’ Say please and thank you. Speak when spoken to.”
Simon
