When Truda got out of the taxi at the train station, she stood on the platform for a moment, reveling in the absolute freedom she suddenly felt. No numbers to write down in ledgers for at least a week. Maybe two. Erwin’s disapproving frown faded from her thoughts. It didn’t matter what Erwin thought. It didn’t matter what anyone thought. She only had to please herself. And on the grander scale of things, the Lord.
This is the day the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it. She’d heard that verse from the Psalms many times when sitting in a church pew on a Sunday morning and had considered the message of joy in it on other days. But never on a day quite like this. A perfect June day with a slight breeze whispering through her hair like the gentle breath of those palm-leaf fans lazily turning overhead.
But it was more than the perfect weather. Truda had experienced many beautiful days. She hadn’t had to spend every sunshine day between marble walls. No, the weather had little to do with this giddy schoolgirl feeling. She was very glad she would have a long train ride to talk some sense into her own head.
She had never been foolish. Ever. Not even as a child. Everyone always said what a sensible girl she was. Then a mature young woman. And now a woman who knew how to make the best of life, to be satisfied with what she had. She was. Her life was good.
But at the same time, she didn’t have to act as though that life were set in concrete. This is the day. Each day the sun rose to the possibility of new experiences. New joys. Rejoice in it.
How long had it been since she had thrown open the door of her house to walk out with so much expectation? Too long. She liked her position at the bank. Enjoyed seeing behind the numbers to the possibilities money offered. But she did know, especially now, that many things were more important than the balance in her bank account. Some of those things she had. Some she simply did not have.
It was time to shake up her life a little.
She looked around for Mary Breckinridge. Truda had contacted Wendover to schedule her visit. The person she spoke with indicated Mary Breckinridge was headed back to Wendover and might be catching the same train out of Louisville. But Truda didn’t see her.
Instead, a younger woman with two children in tow was making a direct path toward Truda. The little boy, who was maybe three or four, had to rush his steps to keep up with the woman’s determined progress. The older child trotted along with no problem. Oddly enough, the woman’s eyes were locked on Truda as she clutched the children’s hands.
Truda looked over her shoulder to see who might be behind her, but no one was there.
“Miss Danson, we’ve been watching for you.” The woman, a bit out of breath, stopped in front of Truda. “Mrs. Breckinridge has been delayed and won’t make it back to Wendover until tomorrow. But she wanted me to assure you that you are expected.”
“Thank you for letting me know.” Truda smiled at the two children staring up at her. “I’m sorry you had to bring your children out so early in the day to tell me.”
“My children?” The woman looked surprised. “Oh no. These aren’t mine. I’m just delivering them to you.”
“Me?” Now Truda was definitely surprised. “I don’t understand.”
“The children have been in the hospital here getting special treatment and now they are ready to go home.” She smiled down at the girl and the little boy. “Aren’t you, children?”
The two nodded solemnly, with their eyes wide as they watched Truda. “So you are taking them back to the mountains?”
“Mrs. Breckinridge must have been unable to contact you, but I’m not taking the children home. You are. My instructions were to hand them over to you so you could watch out for them on their return trip to the mountains. Mrs. Breckinridge was certain you would be glad to help out.”
The woman must have seen Truda’s complete astonishment, because she hurried on. “Forgive me. I haven’t introduced myself.” She pulled her hand away from the girl’s and held it out to Truda. “I’m Carol Fisher, a member of the Frontier Nursing Committee here in Louisville. I did so want to attend the tea you had for Mrs. Breckinridge in May, but I was out of town. I heard from others how delightful everything was. Mrs. Breckinridge was very pleased.”
“Nice to meet you.” Truda took her hand. “But I don’t know anything about children.” Guilt stabbed her at the stricken look on the girl’s face. The little boy didn’t seem to know what was happening as he looked around. The woman kept his hand in her grip.
“You’ll do fine,” Mrs. Fisher said. “They are delightful children and will do whatever you tell them. Won’t you, darlings?”
The girl nodded. The little boy kicked at some gravel on the platform.
The woman nodded toward the girl. “This is Bonnie and the little guy is Thomas. All you have to do is take them on the train and then to the hospital at Hyden. Somebody will be there to get them.”
The little girl tugged on the woman’s arm and then tiptoed up to whisper in her ear.
“You’re right, Bonnie.” Carol Fisher looked back at Truda. “Bonnie reminded me that Thomas is to get off at the stop before you get to Hazard. Then she will go on to Hyden with you. They should have written these instructions down for us, but the nurse who dropped them off at my house was in a terrible hurry to get back to wherever. We’re lucky we have Bonnie to keep us on track.” When she smiled down at Bonnie, the girl gave her a shy smile in return. “Thank you, Bonnie.”
“Very well.” What other choice did Truda have, with the train nearly ready to leave and the girl giving her a pleading look? She reached for Bonnie’s hand. “Come on, Bonnie. You too, Thomas.” The little boy looked a little unsure, but he let her take his hand. “We don’t want to miss our train.”
“Oh, thank you so much. Mrs. Breckinridge will be pleased.” After Mrs. Fisher handed Truda two tickets, she pointed toward two cloth bags behind them. “Their things. Bonnie, run get them.” The child did as she was told. “The girl’s a sweetheart. She can carry their things aboard while you manage your case. But you will need to keep hold of Thomas’s hand. His attention has a way of wandering and sometimes his feet follow along.”
And just like that, Truda was tugging the little guy onto the train, with the girl practically stepping on her heels to stay close. Truda felt a little as though she had been run over by a bus, but there was nothing for it except to carry on.
When they found seats, Truda put the little boy between her and Bonnie. He didn’t make a sound as tears rolled down his cheeks.
“It’s all right, Thomas.” Bonnie patted his head and then looked over at Truda. “He doesn’t like changing people. Scares him some.”
“We had people bringing us down here, and then the nurses at the hospital, and last night, the nurse who took us to Mrs. Fisher’s house, and now you.” Bonnie looked straight at Truda. “I ain’t scared, but Thomas, he’s little.”
“So what can I do?” Truda’s heart hurt as she watched the boy cry.
“Might help if you was to hold him in your lap.”
Truda pulled the child into her lap and held him close. He settled against her as if he’d known her forever. His little body was warm and somehow welcome against her chest. At least this way he couldn’t wander off.
She couldn’t imagine children being sent off to hospitals with no family member accompanying them. Then they had to give that child over to a virtual stranger for the trip home. She’d always heard the saying that the rich were different, but the poor must be every bit as different. The thought shamed her a little. Money gave the rich many choices. The lack of money gave the poor few and sometimes none.
“Are you glad to be going home, Bonnie?” Truda softly rubbed her hand up and down the little boy’s back.
“Oh yes, ma’am. I can’t wait to see my ma and my little sister and brother. That Mrs. Fisher, she give me new shirts and shoes to take to both of them. I know they’ll be tickled.”
“Will they be at the hospital to pick you up?”
“Don’t rightly know. But if’n they aren’t, somebody will be heading up our way to get me close enough to walk on home.”
“You’re very self-sufficient.” When Bonnie looked puzzled, Truda explained. “That means you can take care of yourself.”
“Well, I reckon so.” She smoothed her skirt down over her knees. “I’m seven years old. That’s plenty old enough to know something.”
“So it is,” Truda agreed. “But you look tired. Why don’t you lean against my shoulder and take a nap. We’ve got a ways to go.”
“If’n you’re sure you don’t mind.” The girl’s eyelids were drooping. “Hard to sleep there in that hospital. It was either noisy with trucks and trains. Clanks and clacks. Or as quiet as rocks on a path. No noise was the most worrisome. Especially in the middle of the night. I’m used to crickets and whippoorwills.”
“That does sound better.”
“You ever heard sech?” Bonnie peered up at her.
“Crickets are everywhere. Sometimes in my broom closet. I’m never happy to hear them chirp there, but my grandmother always told me it was bad luck to kill a cricket.”
“Them I know don’t think it’s bad luck to use a cricket as bait for fishing. Except I reckon that could be bad luck for the cricket and the fish.” Bonnie grinned.
“True enough.” Truda smiled back at the girl. “But as for whippoorwills, I can’t hear them where I live.”
“A whippoorwill is too smart to go to the city. It knows where it wants to be.” Bonnie got a dreamy smile on her face. “The city has nice things. Water that don’t have to be packed in the house. Comes right out of a faucet, and the outhouse is in a room indoors. Seemed funny doing my business in the house, but I got used to it. There weren’t no fires to stoke. Things was some easier, but it weren’t home.”
“Home,” Truda echoed. “That is a place we want to be. Right, Thomas?”
Bonnie leaned over to peek at him. “He’s off to sleepyland.”
“Might make the trip go faster if we both took a nap.”
“Yes’m.” The girl obediently leaned against Truda’s arm and shut her eyes.
Truda closed her eyes too. She hadn’t expected to have the company of two children on this trip, but she had set out to see a different world. Her face relaxed in a smile. No need to play games with herself. While she did want to visit the Frontier Nursing Service, seeing the nurse midwives wasn’t what made her pulse speed up when she thought about getting there. Foolish or not, that was the idea of seeing Dr. Jackson Booker.
It was foolish. Worse than foolish. Insane. She’d seen this man a total of three, maybe four hours out of her entire life. Twenty-five years ago. She had not set eyes on him since. No letters had exchanged hands. And yet she could not wait to see Jackson.
She wondered if he would recognize her. She was older, yes. Gray streaked her brown hair. But she had kept her figure, and some said she didn’t look her age. Truda always wondered what they meant by that. As if forty-five was ancient. What was wrong with looking one’s age anyway?
Still, she hadn’t completely conquered vanity. She was happy to have aged well. Better than some of her fellow debutantes who had been touted as beautiful at their debuts. Truda’s features were strong. Some said she was a handsome woman. Handsome was a compliment for those who wore trousers.
But that no longer bothered Truda. She had no argument with the face that stared back at her from a mirror and was grateful for the mind the Lord had given her so that she could make her way in life. While she had no children of her own, she was blessed to be a dear aunt to Erwin’s children. But with this little boy sleeping in her lap and the girl leaning against her, she did wonder what she’d missed by never mothering a child.
Perhaps she wasn’t so old that she couldn’t do something during the rest of the years the Lord gave her to help children like these. Open her house to them as that Mrs. Fisher had. Open her heart to them too when they were in need.
She had the feeling this train was taking her to a new start in life that had nothing to do with the destination of Hazard.