Woody mounted the steps to his family home and tapped the door knocker. Pity he couldn’t bring the boys here. They’d love playing hide-and-seek in the cubbyholes he and Molly had discovered.
He tugged her necklace into his palm. Though she was outspoken and Ella reserved, they matched in kindness, honesty, and resilient spirits.
He’d give his life to keep Ella from Molly’s fate.
Thank God he could keep Ella off the street for now, though maybe he couldn’t change her choice to pursue wealth and the certain disaster to follow. As far as the boys were concerned, he could still do so much. Ella was right. He had one last resort, and he intended to use it. He’d be hanged if he let his plans for the orphanage go without a fight.
Letting the ring fall against his heart, he shoved his fists in his pockets. That offhanded proposal had slipped off his tongue so blasted easily. He’d meant to lighten the moment. Had no idea he’d feel the words to his core. The mix of anguish and longing in her features dubbed him the lowest man in New England. Reminded him he had no rights to her when he’d nothing to offer. But in his deepest heart, her rejection still stung.
If his parents could just loan him enough to bring her family to America—
The massive door opened and Steele answered. The old butler schooled his shock into a sedate expression. “You know I’m not to allow you entrance, sir.”
“It’s a matter of life and death.” When a sliver of sympathy entered the man’s tired eyes, Woody blinked against sudden emotion. “Please, Steele.”
The butler’s wrinkles deepened. There was no denying the irony of Elwood Harrison, once-heir to a railroad empire, pleading with a servant. “Very well, sir. Eh. This way, sir.”
Where family portraits once hung from the woodwork, oil paintings and Asian statues now decorated the hall. A vast improvement over the gloomy expressions marked by lonely dinners with strained conversation. For years, he’d felt in everyone’s way, always homesick for the even colder boarding school.
Steele showed Woody to the lower parlor, where he paced the carpets. Strange, being back, less welcome than ever. If a plea for the orphanage didn’t reconcile him with his parents, what would? Who didn’t want to help the hurting and hungry?
As he silently rehearsed his case, arguments hotfooted across his mind.
Steele returned. “Sorry, sir. The lady of the house won’t come down.”
Heart rate sluggish, Woody ran a hand over his hair. “What did Father say?”
“Nothing, sir.”
So that was the way of it.
Woody straightened. So be it. He’d come back every day for a month, a year, if that’s what it took. “Thank you, Steele. I’ll see myself out.”
Passing the stairs cascading from the family rooms, his ears picked up his mother’s strident voice, her Southern-belle accent strong. “You will not see him, Wesley. Remember the shame he put us through! I’ve forced myself to forget we had a son, and I won’t go through that pain again.”
“He’s my son, too, Lavinia. You can’t keep me from him forever. After the debacle at that ball, it’s curious he would show up here at all. I’m eager to hear why.” Father descended the stair, tucking a shirtfront beneath his morning coat.
Trailing him in an elaborate day dress was Mother, pale and taut. “Why can’t we leave things be? He’ll only drag us down—”
“Hello, Father, Mother.”
Father slowed on the steps, his visage unchanged except for his graying hair. Same military bearing, his right sleeve pinned up from the amputation.
When Mother reached the landing, she gasped. “My lands, his face.”
Woody fought the itch to reach for his bruised eye.
“It’s true, then,” Father said, his mustache bunching. “What’ve you done, boy? Exposing yourself, participating in vulgar fisticuffs before all of society. Why can’t you abide our living in peace?”
“I told you this wasn’t a good—”
“Quiet, Lavinia.”
Shame over Woody’s rebellious youth poured through him. If he hadn’t made a rake of himself to avenge Molly, they’d believe him now. Might have had a better marriage without quarrelling over his constant misbehavior.
“I’m here to apologize, Father. Yes, I came to blows with Jamieson Leech at the Theodore ball, but it was in defense of a lady.”
“That’s not what I heard,” Mother murmured.
“With all due respect, Mother, there’s no telling what you heard. Half the gossip circulating is pure falsehood.”
“Watch your tone, boy.”
With his tongue pressed against his teeth, Woody counted to ten. “I wanted to tell you how much I regret the shame I brought upon you in the past. I retaliated … out of hurt. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Father’s brows rose. He rested his hand behind his back.
“You want something.” Mother squinted.
Pegged, Woody pulled at his ear. “On my first attempts to visit, I admit, I came for financial reasons alone. But I met someone recently who cannot visit her parents. Today, I came hoping we might at least speak on friendly terms again.”
Shifting to his good leg, Father weighed the situation, radiating indecision. Mother’s mouth firmed. “Pretty sentiments won’t get you your father’s money.”
Woody presented his palms. “What else can I say?”
“What’s this talk I’ve heard about you and an orphanage?” Father asked.
With prayers for their understanding, Woody laid out his ideas and their necessity.
After a long silence, Father stepped forward, reluctance etched in the lines around his eyes. “I’m torn, Son. Part of me hopes you’ve changed, wants to help you.” Mother’s face blanched. “Based on your behavior in the past, however, I can’t allow myself to trust you. Until you can enter our home without bringing a trail of scandal, I think it’s best you leave.”
“Father, consider the children. The orphanage is a worthy—”
“Goodbye, Son.”
Back rigid, Woody left with nothing but his integrity, and that he couldn’t prove. They’d never had time for him when he was a youth; why should they now? He’d gone back for Ella, knowing they’d reject him beforehand, but that didn’t lessen the pain of knowing he was unwanted, denied a place to belong.
At the canal, grasshoppers hummed through the tall grasses and birds sang a too-cheery song. With the sun warming his head, Woody leaned a hand against the boys’ shelter, then smacked the wood with his palm, snatched off his tie. Crumpled the ribbon.
“What are you doing, God?” he asked, anchoring his fist on his thigh. “’Cause I sure can’t see it now. Nothing is right. My parents are a lost cause. Even if the boys return, I can’t provide for them like I want. And Ella …” How had it come to this? Woody massaged the bridge of his nose, eyes watering. “I thought she was the one.”
With a grunt, he blinked. He’d survived rejection before. He’d do it again.
“I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.”
Woody swallowed hard, stared at nothing in particular. The inaudible words radiated in his mind with pulsing clarity. He must have read them in his Bible a hundred times or more, but did he let them change the way he lived?
“Forgive me, Lord.” Foreboding circumstances didn’t mean God was far off. The Lord was there when Pierce had found him and told him the good news of Jesus. When he received Molly’s letter. When Ella crossed his path.
And here, now.
“The Lord is at hand,” Woody whispered toward the sky. Not far away, but within his reach. When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up. He wasn’t unwanted. He had a Father who’d paid the ultimate price for him.
A quiet conviction overcame Woody, quickening his heartbeats. Though he’d failed to retrieve funds for Ella’s family, though he’d nothing to give her, he could still offer the comfort of these verses, assure her God cared.
But would seeing her again so soon make things harder for her?
Blowing out a deep breath, Woody replaced his tie. No. If the Holy Spirit wanted him to speak to Ella, he’d do so and leave the outcome to God.
What had he told the boys in their last Bible lesson? “Faith is trust in action.”
Well, then. It was time to start living by faith.
At the soot-fogged train station, Ella examined the disembarking passengers for the third day straight.
When Woody met Ina, he’d understand why Ella couldn’t stop fighting for her family.
Thunder clapped, and Ella trembled. Had Ina enjoyed the voyage or taken seasick? Was she any recovered from her usual illness?
A half hour later the sky opened in a deluge and forced Ella under the depot roof. The crowd thinned with no sign of a short, aproned girl with brownish-reddish braids wrapped in a kerchief. Fear gripped Ella’s throat. What could have gone wrong?
A strange woman approached. She spoke in Polski, “Are you waiting on two women?”
Two? Ella tucked a windblown strand behind her ear. Perhaps Mother had asked another immigrant to chaperone Ina. “Maybe. My family name is Lipski.”
“Mmm. Yes. One of them sickly.”
Prickles crawled over Ella’s shoulders and nested in the pit of her stomach. “That’s my sister, Ina.”
“Ah, I’m sorry. I met them on the boat.” The woman’s face wrinkled up before Ella’s vision blurred her out.
Lord, please. “What happened?”
Old chin atremble, the woman grabbed her wrist with a bony hand. “She didn’t make it, lamb.”
“No.” Hot tears plopped onto Ella’s cheeks. It couldn’t be.
But Ina should have arrived by now.
The woman patted her hand and mumbled something in a sad tone before limping off to join a young couple in a carriage.
When Ella could no longer bear up under their sympathetic stares, she sloshed away from the station. Numbness overtook her as the frigid downpour washed away her tears. She put one foot in front of the other until she entered Woody’s quarters and shut the door behind her.
“Dear God, why?” she whispered into her trembling palm. She and Ina had such plans. Talked of raising their families together. “I thought You said You’d never forsake your own. Ina’s always trusted You. Where is Your plan in this?”
Choking back a sob, Ella tossed her belongings in a crate. She’d failed her family. But then, she’d always been helpless to fix things.
Knowing that, she should never have involved Woody. She’d used him to learn the skills she needed to get Jamieson’s attention. Woody deserved better. Her family deserved better than a failure for a daughter, a sister. She pressed her hand to her mouth and wept.
There was nothing left but to throw herself on Jamieson’s mercy. Drunkard or not, she would propose to the man for the rest of her family’s sake and never look back. Lord in heaven, I can’t do this without You. Show me what to do.
Scavenging the room for items she’d missed, her eyes burned with new tears—everything bore traces of Woody. After smoothing the bedcovers, she wormed Ina’s kerchief from under the pillow. Tracing the Polski words, she whispered them. “Walk by faith, not by sight. The just shall live by faith.” Numerous scripture references followed. If God recorded the command so many times, He must have meant His children to take heed. Did—
“Where’s Woody?”
Ella spun, wiping her face.
Freckles stood in the doorway, Newsie and Shoe Shine behind him supporting Musty, who glistened with tears and shuddered between hiccups. Freckles scanned her with a harried glance. “Musty broke his shoulder, I think. Why’re you crying?”
Stuffing aside her grief, she brushed past him and set Musty upon the bed. “Let me see.”
The lantern’s glow revealed the odd tilt of the boy’s shoulder. Ella gently probed the area, noticing he didn’t cry out. “Woody’s not here. He’s living at the shelter you boys made by the canal—in case you came back. I’m … taking care of his house while he’s gone.”
Having grown up with three rough and tumble brothers, Ella easily diagnosed Musty’s arm. “It’s out of joint, not broken. Relax for me, and I’ll put it back in place, all right?”
With a whine, Musty shook his head, inching away from her.
Freckles shook the boy’s leg. “She’s trying to help. You want to be better, don’t you?”
Wiping his eyes, Musty nodded.
“Here, squeeze my hand.” Freckles offered a dirty palm, and the little fellow gripped it with all his might.
Ella counted to two in her head, then shoved the bone into its joint.
Musty panted and whimpered, then his face cleared as he moved his little arm this way and that, as one might move a doll’s arm. He hugged his tummy and smiled at her around the finger he stuck in his mouth. “Dziękuję.”
“You’re welcome, sweet one.”
“Now, what’s your problem?” Freckles put his hands on his hips. “You helped Musty. Maybe we can help you.”
She sat down beside Musty with a sigh, a fresh wave of tears threatening. No one could help. But the need to share her burden with another human being overwhelmed her. She explained Ina’s absence at the train station.
“But she might not be dead.” Newsie scratched underneath his oversized cap, and for the first time she glimpsed more than his wide mouth. His eyes were blue.
“Yeah, that old lady could be wrong.” Freckles said. “There’s lots of people that don’t show up at the trains ’cause they get held behind at Castle Garden. ’Specially if they’re sick like your sister, ’cause then they send ’em to the hospital to get well before they find jobs.”
“Yeah,” Newsie chimed in.
“Yeah.” Musty, too.
Ella held her breath against rising hope. Could Ina simply be delayed? Could the old mother with failing ears have gotten the name wrong?
“We could pray for her.” All eyes turned to Shoe Shine, with his impossibly long lashes and button-sized ears. It was the first he’d spoken since she met him. He blushed. “That’s what Woody would do.”
Ella exhaled, reached out to him, and brought him into the circle where he knelt beside the bed. “You’re right.” With Musty’s little paw in one palm and Shoe Shine’s rough one in the other, she closed her eyes, but struggled for a place to begin.
After a peek at each bowed head, warmth filled her heart. Though orphaned and unrelated, they still had faith for tomorrow. Had their own special brand of family, right here. And they were at peace. Something riches couldn’t buy. Certainly not with Jamieson Leech.
Her own discontent over the last two months … How ugly and selfish it shone in the light of their behavior. She hadn’t sought to please the Lord or know His will on how to find help for her family, but rather asked Him to bless her own plans. I’m so sorry, Lord. I’ve been unwilling to put my trust in You to work. Even before Mama tasked me with marrying money, I’ve always wanted more than what You’ve given. I should be grateful You’ve allowed me to come to America at all.
When Shoe Shine peeped at her, she prayed.
“Dear Father in heaven, thank You for these sweet boys. Thank You that they are safe and that You know where my sister is. Get her safely to me, Lord … if—if that’s Your plan. If not, I know I’ll see her in heaven one day.” Her throat swelled to aching. “And the lady who died, please comfort her family. No matter what comes of this, help me obey You and trust You with the outcome. Thank You. Help Musty’s arm, I pray. Amen.”
“You said thank you a lot,” Newsie observed.
Ella gave up restraining her smile. For the first time, her burden lightened. “I did, didn’t I?” One by one, she hugged them, from Musty, who snuggled close, to Shoe Shine, who patted her shoulder and stepped away. “Thank you for suggesting we pray.”
“Boys?” Woody stepped through the open doorway and approached. Caution, disbelief, then affection, lightened his gaze to molasses brown. He mussed Freckles’s hair and left his hand there, taking in the vestiges of hers and Musty’s tears. “What’s going on?”
Freckles spoke up. “Ella fixed Musty’s shoulder, and we told her her sister’s not dead. Then we prayed.”
“Oh?” Woody’s dark eyes met hers, peaceful with tempered hope. The world slowed for a moment, warmed. As if she’d been wrapped in a blanket.
When Shoe Shine pressed the corners into her hands, she realized she had. In her grief, she’d forgotten her soggy state. “Thank you.”
Woody came to kneel before her. “Ina wasn’t at the station?”
“No,” she whispered, eyes filling once more.
“Oh, Ella. I’m sorry.” The grip of his hand conformed to hers like the most comfortable pair of shoes.
Drinking in his presence, she managed a nod, unwilling to release the connection though tears poured down her face. “I’ve given the situation to God.” Woody, too, Lord. You’ve given me a great gift in this man. If he asked again, she’d be hard tempted not to say yes.
“I’ve given the situation to God.”
As Woody erased Ella’s tears with his thumbs, his heart pounded at her words. She meant her sister’s situation, of course, but what if she’d also given her marriage plans to God?
His gaze dropped to her full lips, and he swallowed the question slugging his ribcage. Selfish of him to think of his own heart when she didn’t know if her sister was safe.
“God is a present help in times of trouble, Ella,” Woody said, appreciating her smooth skin and the complete trust resting in her green eyes. “He’s faithful. Remember that.”
Covering his hand with her palm, she closed her eyes.
When something brushed his shoulder, he startled to find Musty leaning into him. Woody pulled the boy close, his heart still raw at seeing them all here, hale and whole. “I missed you boys. Every one.”
“Sorry we ran off,” Freckles said. “We thought Miss Ella would make you put us in a orphanage. Lots of ladies talk such, and we don’t wanna go someplace we won’t feel like family.”
Ella finger-combed Freckles’s hair. “I never want to make you go where you’re scared or mistreated.”
Amazed at the love creasing her brow, Woody addressed the boys. “I think you should get an education, though, so you can get good jobs when you become men. The place I want to build would help with that. Plus, you’d have beds and hot meals and someone to care for you if you got sick. I thought, too, we could hire folks from your home countries to help in the project.”
The little ragamuffins perked up, and Woody’s heart swelled. Ella’s, too, judging by the way she watched him. “Miss Ella and I want you safe and well cared for.”
“We know now, since she fixed Musty’s arm.” Newsie’s proclamation brought nods all around and a twitch to Ella’s lips.
“Good.” Woody winked. “I’m working on a plan, fellas. All this is up to God, so help me pray hard, but don’t get disappointed if He says no, right?”
“Right.” A big nod from Musty. “He love and care of us.”
The lisped words, sincerely spoken, made Woody’s tear ducts burn. “You got it.”
“Woody!” Ella breathed.
“What?” He jerked to his feet, wobbled, and grabbed Ella’s arms. At her wide-eyed stare, he checked behind him, made sure the boys were safe, then looked back at her. “What’s wrong?” She was obviously fine—or gone stark mad. That slow smile, however, could drive any red-blooded man mad along with her. Such a smile would fit his perfectly if he tilted his head just so. He blinked and dragged his thoughts to the matter at hand.
Ella gripped his elbows. “Woody, I have an idea.”