flower. “We’ll soon be at Macpherson’s store.” The collection of low buildings clung to the trail ahead, trees of various kinds clustered behind the buildings. His gaze sought the little area behind the store. As they drew closer he saw Cassie had almost managed to get the tent standing, but it swayed like a broken-down old mare. He chuckled. Wouldn’t take more than a cupful of rain to bring it down and soak everything inside, including her if it happened while she slept. The canvas flapped in the wind. Fact was she might not have to wait for rain to topple the tent. A breeze made by bird wings would do the trick.
“Whoa.” He jumped down and went to the back of the wagon.
Already Neil was on his feet with Pansy and he helped Daisy to the ground as Billy scampered down to join them. All four regarded him with wary eyes.
He pushed his hat farther back on his head and returned their study. “Your ma would be proud of you.” Where had that come from? The words must have been dropped to his tongue by the good Lord because the three older kids beamed, and Pansy gave him a shy smile that turned around in his heart and nestled there. “Now let’s find your pa.”
They trooped into the store. Macpherson leaned across the counter talking with another man. Roper recognized the North-West Mounted Police officer, Kipp Allen. “Howdy, Constable. Didn’t see your horse outside.”
The man nodded a greeting. Even though he lounged against the counter, he had a way of holding himself that let you know he saw clear through you. “He threw a shoe. He’s down at the smithy.” His eyes shifted to the young ’uns and he straightened, his gaze watchful.
Roper paid him no mind. “Macpherson, these here are the Locke kids looking for their pa, Thaddeus Locke. I’ll give them transport if you tell me where I can find him.”
Macpherson blinked. Just once but enough for Roper to wonder what secret the man had. “Best you be asking the constable.”
Roper shifted to meet Allen’s study. “I’m asking.”
The Mountie’s eyes softened and he faced the children. “I’m sorry to inform you that your pa passed away last winter. I buried him on his property.”
Neil and Daisy drew in a gasp.
Orphans. Just like him. Roger remembered well the loneliness, the discouragement of it. How many times had he held his breath and watched a man and woman come to the orphanage for a child? Waiting. Wanting. Hoping. Never chosen. The matron tried to comfort him. “People want to know your background.” But he had no background. No name. Only what someone had given him after he was discovered as a squalling infant on the doorstep. “You’d do well to forget about a home and family,” she’d said.
He tried to heed her advice and turned his attention to helping others. Making them laugh. Teaching them how to smile for strangers so they would be chosen. Helping others find a home helped him find his joy and satisfaction.
But as he grew older and left the orphanage he forgot the matron’s sound advice. Until it was too late. He learned the hard way that his background mattered more than who he was. After that experience he knew he would never belong in a forever family.
Small whimpers brought Roper’s attention back to the children. Billy’s eyes were wide as dishpans. Pansy stuck her fingers in her mouth and burrowed against Neil’s shoulder.
“What...how’d he die?” Neil squeaked out.
The Mountie closed the distance between himself and the children. Roper automatically stepped away, out of respect for the sorrow visibly carved on their faces.
“Son.” The man clasped Neil’s shoulder. “I regret to have to tell you that he froze to death. Near as I can figure he went out in a storm to check on his animals and got turned around trying to get back to his cabin.” He let the news sink in. “I have admiration for a man who is willing to face hard things rather than shirk his responsibilities. You kids can be proud of him.”
Although the kids seemed to welcome the praise, Roper couldn’t help wondering if staying safe for his family wouldn’t have been more responsible than worrying about a couple or three animals.
The Mountie straightened. “We’ll see you get back to your mother.”
“Mama’s dead.” Billy blurted out the announcement, then sobbed into Daisy’s dress.
“I see. What other family do you have?”
Daisy’s mouth worked silently for a moment. Life had dished out a lot of bad news for them. No doubt she reeled inside, making it difficult to recall things.
“Mama had a brother but we haven’t heard from him since I was Billy’s size.”
“Do you know where he was at the time?” The Mountie pulled out a little notepad, ready to jot down the information.
“We were living in Toronto then. It was before Papa decided we would do better to move West. He always wore a suit. I think I remember Mama saying he was a lawyer. Maybe. I can’t be certain.”
“Do you remember his name?”
“Jack. And Mama’s name before she married was Munro.”
“Can you spell it?”
Neil answered. “I can. I saw it in the Bible.” He spelled it.
The Mountie wrote it down, closed his notepad and stuffed it into his breast pocket. “Fine. We’ll locate him for you. In the meantime, we’ll have to find a place for you to live.” He turned to Roper. “I expect Mrs. Gardiner would take them in.”
“Normally, yes.” His boss’s wife shared her home with anyone who needed it. “But she’s been awfully sick. The boss has been plenty worried about her. I ’spect he’d say no to the idea.”
“Then I’ll have to take them back to the fort.”
“And then what?”
“No one will likely take four but we’ll split them up between willing families. Or...” He didn’t finish the thought.
But Roper knew.
Send them to an orphanage.
Daisy stepped back, Neil at her side. They pressed Billy behind them and Pansy between them both holding her tight.
“We aren’t going,” Daisy said.
“We’re sticking together,” Neil added.
And then Roper heard himself say, “I’ll look after them.”
The kids relaxed so quickly he was surprised Pansy didn’t drop to the floor.
Billy poked his head out between his older brother and sister. “You will?”
“Now wait a minute.” The Mountie held up his hands. “You live in a bunkhouse when you’re not out on the range. You expect to bunk these children with you or carry them on horseback across the mountains?”
“Well, no.” Put that way it sounded pretty dumb. But something about their predicament forced him to speak and act on their behalf.
