The lesson ended. Mirielle handed out a large, heavy gingerbread cookie slathered in thick, white frosting to each student as they finished cleaning up the hotel ballroom. "Frankie, here are the extra cookies for our two missing boys.""They'll be real excited, thanks."
She put a hand on his forearm and held him with her for a moment. "But do please encourage them to come next time?" Mirielle watched as Frankie's eyes shuttered. Had the two gotten themselves into trouble and Frankie covered for them? "You know you can tell me if one of the newsies ever needs help, right?"
He looked away and busied himself with carefully wrapping a napkin around the delicacies and then tucking cookies into a coat pocket. "I know, Miss Mirielle."
Before she could dig further, Evan brushed his hands together as he joined them. "Well, that's that. Most of the boys are off to their assigned streets. Which are you going to pick, Frankie?"
The lad glanced up into the much taller, broader man's eyes. "I'll get my other guys and we'll cover Reeder's Alley. I figure that's where lots of kids go if'n they don't got no regular spot. Lots a places to pitch a spot and not get caught."
Mirielle smiled. "You're right. Take care and I'll see you in a couple of days."
"Yes, ma'am." He ducked out of the door in a flash of gangly legs.
"He had good parents before being orphaned. I can tell he knew love."
Evan turned to Mirielle. "You amaze me." His eyes glowed with admiration. "Your faith in children no one else believes in and seeing them as no one else can. Somehow I think hiring these newsies is going to bring my son back, if it's going to happen."
If it's going to happen. Prickles slid down her spine like ice skates over the local pond—smooth and pleasing while sharpening her senses to a crack in the surface. No. She swallowed back the sudden fear. There could be no fracture in the team's purpose. Not a bit of doubt. Hopelessness sprouted as easily as faith. Whichever seed they chose to plant, that's what they'd harvest.
"Don't say that, please." She stood and faced her new friend and teammate. "We have to believe we will find Joseph. We have to instill that belief in the newsies or none of us will have the drive to push through the rough days."
He straightened his shoulders. "Thank you. I think God directed me to you because I needed my own belief shored up." Evan ran a hand across his heart. "I've been looking for my son for so long that it feels hopeless." God, is this why you created woman for man? We need her to speak encouragement into our souls and help us keep fighting. I think I could fight a lifetime for her. He shook his head as if to answer his own question. Loneliness battled with common sense. Mirielle Sheehan was a kind, God-fearing person who simply had an extraordinary empathy for lost children. The newsies were prime examples.
"It's not hopeless, Mr. Russell, it's not." Mirielle reached for his hand.
Though her touch was cool from the chill in the ballroom, when they connected, Evan soaked her essence into his heart like the dirt outside the claim sucked up the rare summer rain. He sandwiched her hand between both of his without thinking. The desire to provide warmth and comfort as instinctive as it had been toward his wife.
"Evan, please. Sorry, those boys already have me calling you Miss Mirielle."
"I like the natural way it happened. But just call me Mirielle when we're alone." She gasped and snatched her hand back. "I didn't mean—"
"I didn't take it that way." He assured her, then noticed the little flecks of gold in her eyes. They sparkled like specks in clear water, the kind that proved invaluable.
"Evan?"
"What?" He blinked.
"I asked you if we should choose a street, too."
Was she that unaware of him? Was he that distracted by her? "Let me put you in a carriage and get you home. I can keep looking."
"But I want to help."
He couldn't have her along and stay focused. "I'll cover more ground, faster, without you. I hope you understand."
She looked hurt, but grace floated around her words. "Oh. I hadn't thought of it like that. I thought if you drove your carriage, we could cover both sides of the street. One could watch both directions."
"It sounds like a good idea that might have worked the first day Joseph disappeared. But by now he'd be established doing something, wouldn't he? And what about your family? Won't they be concerned? It's getting late."
"I live at the school in my own apartments." Mirielle's voice a near whisper. "No family."
An orphan? Mirielle Sheehan is an orphan? Understanding and compassion overwhelmed him. No wonder she poured herself heart and soul into helping these boys.
"You're not letting me do this alone, are you?"
She shrugged. "I have a talent for finding lost boys." She gestured at the area around them as if all the boys still sat at her feet.
"I accept." She also seemed to have a talent for finding lost hearts. Could he be so lucky as to find his son and a woman to love? Evan's sense of hope grew a little larger. Hope, it seemed, that stemmed from the moment he'd laid eyes on one Miss Mirielle Sheehan.