Love Finds You in Lonesome Prairie, Montana (7 page)

Isaac’s gaze swept the room, and he found the same smirk on the other adults’ faces—all except Miss Cavanaugh’s. She seemed clueless about their matchmaking ideas. Isaac clenched his jaw, frustrated with his own thoughts as well as theirs. Would they never give it up?
How many times have I told them I’m never getting married?

Isaac wiped the cold sweat, which kept returning, from his hands. He picked up the ledger Miriam had left him from the front desk and faced the crowd.

“Well, this is a rare occasion for all of us,” he began. “A day Elder Milo and I planned for quite a few years now.” Isaac winced as he mentioned Milo’s name. The three weeks since his friend’s death had passed in a sleepless blur. He’d dug the grave, performed the funeral, and helped Aponi care for the girls. He’d also tended his little band of churchgoers with the only true comfort for those who mourn: the hope of heaven and God’s intimate presence with His people. A comfort he himself thirsted for each day.

It surprised Isaac how, even in the short three weeks, he’d felt so alone without Milo. Perhaps he hadn’t realized how much he’d relied on the man’s companionship, godly wisdom, and fatherly love. He’d known grief before, when as a child he’d lost his mother—and at other times—but Isaac had forgotten the stabbing, physical pain of a fresh wound. He took in a breath and once again eyed the orphans and parents. Uniting these families was their dream—his and Milo’s. He’d put aside his grief and rejoice in God’s goodness and mercy. Milo would want him to.

He searched each of the sweet orphan girls’ faces. “What a new life each of you will have. You have no reason to fear, for we’ve picked good, godly families for you.”

He was pleased to see that Miss Cavanaugh seemed to take comfort from his words. “I can tell you,” he continued, addressing the girls, “I and all the folks in this room have been praying for you, not even knowing your names. God heard our prayers, and His providence has led you here.”

The littlest one hopped off Miss Cavanaugh’s lap and jumped up and down on the rough-hewn floor. “I here?”

A dozen smiles warmed the faces of the people gathered as the caretaker hoisted the child back to her lap.

“Yes, sweetheart,” Isaac answered. “You stay here.”

A small smile emerged from Miss Cavanaugh’s lips as she met his gaze. Isaac quickly looked away and began to read through the list connecting the girls with the waiting, exuberant families. Within minutes, three families were matched.

After introductions, Miriam hustled them off to the office to fill out paperwork stating they’d provide stable homes, good education, and Christian training, including church and Sabbath school if possible.

Reaching the bottom of the list, just one child’s name remained. And one family. Isaac paused at the names,
Abe and Elizabeth Falcon
, written in his own handwriting.

He’d grieved with his sister and brother-in-law through the heartache of three miscarriages. Each time, his sister had mourned her loss with grace and faith, comforting those around her more than herself. But the last loss nearly took Elizabeth’s life, and it rendered her barren. “Barren, like a dry field,” she’d said that hot, summer afternoon she’d delivered the tiny infant, gone before it could take breath.

Elizabeth’s heart had always overflowed with love toward those around her, yet Isaac knew she longed to lavish that love on a child. He’d spent many hours pleading with God to give her a baby and had longed for some way to help her. It seemed the whole community of Lonesome Prairie prayed for a child to join the Falcon family.

The Children’s Aid Society had provided Isaac a way to help, and if truth be told, he’d requested the orphan train to come as much for Elizabeth and Abe as for Milo and his plans.

Isaac read the name of the child on the ledger.
Beatrice Bruce.
Little Bea. A perfect match for his sister. “We have one child remaining,” he said. “You, Abe and Elizabeth, are to take Beatrice Bruce.”

Even as the words left his lips, Isaac, who’d been pondering the name on the ledger, looked up and noticed the other girl sitting next to Julia. How could he have not realized she was still there? The girl’s young face, full of confusion and fear, gaped at him. Compassion for her stung him, and he checked the list again. Only one name and one family.

What could’ve happened?

Then he saw Miss Cavanaugh, eyes like a mother lion. “You mean two children, right?”

Julia struggled to remain calm as she pulled both girls next to her. “There must be some mistake.”

Isaac stared at her with an unreadable expression. “Well, the paperwork says just one, but I’m sure we can find a—”

“There’s two. See.” Worries of children being ripped from their siblings by adoptive parents had plagued Julia’s thoughts, yet she’d been assured this wouldn’t happen.
And it can’t happen, not to Bea and Shelby.

“All I have here is Beatrice Bruce, but—”

“That me! You my new mama and papa?” Bea stretched her arms toward the only remaining couple, Elizabeth and Abe, but Julia snatched her back to her lap.

Shelby gripped Julia’s arm.

“The sisters must be together.” Julia’s chin twitched upward, and her eyes zeroed in on the parson.

“I’m sorry,” Isaac continued, eyeing her right back, starting to appear annoyed. “The paperwork shows no record of another child. I’m not sure how this is handled. The older child may have to go back….”

His voice sounded stiff, unswerving. Julia’s foot tapped in nervous frustration. Shelby couldn’t be separated from Bea. Julia wouldn’t let it happen. Losing Bea would make Shelby as lonely as Julia. That was a reality Julia could never accept—she’d do anything to protect those girls.

Suddenly her plan to keep the two didn’t seem so farfetched. What if she took Shelby’s and Bea’s hands and walked out of that room, back to the train? She could take them to New York with her. It’d be hard to find a place to stay and work, but at least they’d be together. Julia examined Shelby’s face. Fear and rejection marked her eyes. Would she be abandoned again? Were there parents for everyone but her? Julia couldn’t let this happen to Shelby. She wouldn’t.

“Isaac,” Julia heard Elizabeth say.

Seemingly oblivious to his sister, Isaac shook his head. “I know siblings are sometimes separated—”

Julia stood, stomping her boot. “These girls
cannot
be separated.” She didn’t care who was in the room or what they thought of her. What mattered was that Shelby understood she
was
wanted, loved
.

She shifted her gaze to Shelby. “I’ve been your mother for two years.” She gently touched the girl’s face. “What if we became a real family? It’s what we both want, isn’t it?”

Shelby’s face shone.

“Miss Cavanaugh,” Isaac said. “I don’t know what you have in mind, but…”

Julia set a pleasant expression on her face. She tilted her head as she glanced at him, no longer needing to be angry. “There is no problem now, sir. I will simply take them with me back to New York.
Both
of them.”

He glanced at his sister Elizabeth, and Julia followed his gaze. Her brow creased, and she lowered her head.

“No,” he said firmly. “You can’t.”

“Isaac,” Elizabeth said again, louder.

“I was told the girls didn’t have to go to anyone they didn’t want to.” Julia stepped toward him, anger swishing back. He smelled of sweet prairie grass, and the pleasantness of it made Julia even more frustrated.

“From what I can tell, Bea wants to go with my sister.” The man’s face reddened, and his eyes looked frantic. “Just a moment ago she was reaching for Abe and Elizabeth—her new parents.”

Julia clutched Bea to her, and the two-year-old snuggled against her chest. “No, she wants to stay with me. Can’t you see that? And if Shelby can’t go with them—”

“We’ll figure something out about Shelby, but I’m sorry, Bea needs to go with Abe and Elizabeth.”

Julia felt her gaze narrow. “You are one rude parson.” She wondered how she’d ever been attracted to him.

Isaac’s head jerked back as if he’d been hit. He exhaled. “Look, Miss Cavanaugh. I just can’t let you steal my sister’s only hope of having a child. She’s been waiting forever to be a mother.” Julia saw compassion in his eyes but chose to ignore it. Her love for the girls mattered more.

“Isaac!” Elizabeth’s shout echoed off the walls, the ceiling. “Listen to me.”

Julia winced and looked to the woman. Elizabeth’s cheeks were flushed.

Two steps and Isaac was at her side. “What is it?”

“We’ll take both girls, Isaac,” Elizabeth said, her shoulders slumping in what looked like relief to finally be heard. “We can’t separate them. We’d be happy to take both.” She held her husband’s hand.

“Be happy to.” Abe tugged his wife to him and rubbed her arm. “Not right to separate them girls. ’Sides, Shelby can help Elizabeth. Keep ’er company.” He smiled at Shelby.

Isaac’s face relaxed. “Thank you. That’s the perfect solution. I’m sorry; I should have asked you that first.”

Julia sank back onto the bench. She didn’t know what to do. What was best for the girls? One minute ago she’d decided to take Shelby and Bea—as her own—with her to New York, to be their mother as she’d longed for all these weeks. Her hopes had rushed her forward in time to their happy home together—laughing at the breakfast table, teaching and guiding them throughout the day, seeing their faces every night before bed. How could she just shut off those hopes again despite the woman’s offer to take both? She kissed Shelby’s head and squeezed Bea tightly, breathing in the scent of their skin.

“Do you want to go back with me? You can still go if you want to, but…”

Moments of silent embraces passed. Then Shelby pulled back, wiping her tears on her pinafore. “Miss Cavanaugh,” she said softly.

Julia thumbed a straggling tear from her chin. “Yes?”

“You were right. We have to trust—” Shelby forced a smile.

“We have to trust that God picked my parents.”

Julia bowed her head and clasped Shelby’s hands in hers, gently rubbing the lines in her fingers. She knew she couldn’t be their mother. The idea faded as quickly as it arrived.

Shelby sniffed and weaved her fingers through Julia’s. “These folks seem like really nice people. They’ll make good parents for Bea. Maybe it’d be better for her to grow up here than in New York like I did. She could run around. It might be good for me, too”.

Bea’s wide blue eyes peered up at Julia and then shifted to her new parents, confused.

“Of course you’re right.” Julia caressed Shelby’s soft hair. “You’re so brave.”

“Bea brave, too.” Bea smiled.

Julia kissed her cheek and then stood, lifting Bea in her arms.
Lord, take care of Your children.
She walked to Elizabeth and handed Bea to the kind young woman.

Elizabeth’s eyes brightened and tears rimmed her lids. She touched Julia’s arm. “Thank you.”

“They’re both yours.” Julia placed a hand on Shelby’s back, urging her forward.

Shelby stood tall before her new mother, yet her eyes fell, nervous. “We’d be happy to come with you. I promise I’ll help take care of Bea.”

Elizabeth lifted Shelby’s chin. “We’d be honored to be your parents. You’re an unexpected gift, Shelby. Because of you, this day is even more wonderful than we first imagined.”

Julia glanced at a clock above the doorway. She had fifteen minutes to say good-bye and race to the depot. With determined yet shaky strength, Julia strode to the girls huddled next to Elizabeth and Abe. Kneeling down, she swooped Bea into her arms. “Be good for your new mama and papa.” Tears forced their way out, yet Julia fought to smile as she released her little charge. “Good-bye, Bea.”

Turning to Shelby, she took the girl’s face in her hands. She wanted to give her something, to somehow show her love. Then she remembered the pillowslip. She pulled it out of her bag and brushed off the dust from the train floor. A butterfly fluttering over a colorful rainbow decorated the slip. That’s what Shelby had been to her—an arch of color after the rain. Julia handed it to her.

“Thank you, Miss Cavanaugh.” Shelby flung herself against her in a tight hug.

“You’re welcome, my sweet girl.” Julia pulled herself away. “Never forget—” She pressed steepled hands to her mouth, like a child at prayer, then lowered them. “Never forget how much you mean to me.”

As if on cue, the train whistle sounded its fifteen-minute warning, and Julia ambled out the door and down the street, her heart breaking with each step.

She didn’t look back.