* * *
Charlotte tugged at her bonnet strings as she settled onto a seat in the crowded room. Even at this cool hour, the hall was hot and her old wool mourning dress pinched at the waist so she could barely breathe. So much had happened since Charles’s death that she hadn’t found time to dye one of her everyday dresses. She’d have to do that soon or suffer through the heat of summer in thirteen-year-old dresses that had been made for wintertime. Still, that prospect, miserable as it would be, couldn’t top her distress today.
That man, Wyatt Reed, had made her lose her temper, something she never did. But how could she remain calm when he was going to take Sasha away? For money, no less. Tears stung her eyelids. She’d thought he was a good man. He’d held Sasha so tenderly. He’d rescued her. Or had he? Maybe he’d been whisking her off when Charlotte saw him carrying Sasha down the street. Anger welled up again. He’d dismissed her offer to pay him to keep the children in Evans Grove without even hearing her out. Men like him had no heart.
Mayor Evans called the meeting to order with a rapping of the gavel. “Good morning.” Her strong voice carried above the chatter, and talk ceased in seconds. “I’m pleased to see so many of you here at this early hour.”
Theodore Regan stood. He and his wife had taken in one of the orphan girls. With three boys already, Helen Regan had wanted a girl, and snapped up little Galina Denikin at once.
Mr. Regan’s thick shoulders and arms gave him an imposing figure. “We heard Greenville’s tryin’ to take away our children.”
A murmur of protest rose until Mayor Evans put it to a stop with an upraised hand.
“They did send a Mr. Wyatt Reed to request the orphans continue on to Greenville as originally scheduled.”
“Well, Reed can’t have ’em,” Regan said.
A jolt of emotion shot through Charlotte. Could the town succeed where she’d failed? Could they convince Mr. Reed to leave without the children? She started to tell them he’d refused her offer to pay him, but the grumbles made her realize they were already angry enough to run Wyatt out of town, perhaps at the end of a pitchfork. She didn’t need to do a thing.
Mayor Evans calmly regained control. “Let’s not act in haste. Even though the Orphan Salvation Society office in New York confirmed the agreement with Greenville, Mr. Reed agreed that those children already placed in homes could stay.”
Charlotte’s jaw dropped. Had she heard correctly? Considering the nods of approval and diminishing anger in the room, she had. Wyatt wasn’t going to take Sasha away. She could keep her daughter. Was that what he’d been trying to tell her outside when she kept interrupting?
She bit her lip. Maybe she should have listened. She should have given him a chance. He had arranged for her to keep Sasha. She felt like crying out in joy, but not everyone was pleased.
Holly looked stricken. “That solves part of the problem, but it doesn’t help the children who haven’t been approved for selection yet.”
The crowd shouted in agreement.
Charlotte battled despair as she recalled how much Holly and Mason adored Liam. Of course they would want to take the boy in once they married. She pressed a hand to her mouth. Poor Holly. Poor Mason. Poor Liam.
“They have been through so much,” Holly continued, battling her own fears with such bravery that Charlotte marveled at her fortitude. “I’m positive homes can be found for every one of them right here in Evans Grove. Why should they be wrenched away when they’ve just started to hope?”
“Because they don’t belong here.” Beatrice Ward stood to make her point. “The Orphan Salvation Society’s agreement with the town of Greenville came first, did it not, Miss Sterling?” She briefly glanced toward the elegant orphan agent and gave her only time to nod before continuing. “It would not only be morally wrong to deny Greenville the children they desperately want, but it would be illegal to break the agreement. The children—all eight children—must go to Greenville.” With a look of smug triumph, she settled back into her seat.
The crowd erupted, mainly in protest, but Charlotte saw a couple of people nod in agreement with Beatrice. Her stomach knotted yet again. Beatrice couldn’t win, could she? She anxiously looked toward the doorway, hoping Wyatt would appear and counter Beatrice’s claims. The opposition came from another quarter.
“That’s not quite correct, Miss Ward.” Curtis Brooks, the dapper banker from Newfield, faced the crowd. He exuded such confidence that people instantly quieted.
After safely delivering his bank’s loan to Evans Grove despite the attempted robbery, Mr. Brooks had garnered a lot of respect in town. Then he’d insisted on staying to oversee the loan distribution, and Mayor Evans had asked him to serve on the Orphan Selection Committee. His dedication in the following weeks had led people to trust his opinion. He’d struck Charlotte as a thoughtful, perceptive man. Perhaps he had the answer to this mess.
“From what I’ve seen of the paperwork Miss Sterling showed me,” he said, “I’d say Greenville’s legal claim might be on shaky ground.”
Charlotte’s stomach unknotted a little as the crowd cheered. They seemed to take his words as proof Evans Grove would win this dispute, but Mr. Brooks had said the claim might not hold up to scrutiny. He didn’t say it definitely wouldn’t.
Beatrice Ward must have heard what the crowd did, but she didn’t have the same reaction. Not at all. Her eyes practically bulged from her head, as if her tightly bound gray hair had stretched even tighter. Her lips pressed into a thin, straight line, but she rallied quickly. “If you’re going to challenge Greenville’s claim, shouldn’t you address their representative?”
Mayor Evans sighed as the crowd focused on her. “Miss Ward is right.” She looked at Sheriff Wright. “Please summon Mr. Reed. I believe he is staying at the hotel.”
Charlotte felt sick. What would Wyatt say? What would he do? Would Beatrice convince him to take Sasha away? She tried to pray but couldn’t find the words. Surely God understood. Surely He would protect the innocent.
She didn’t have long to wait. Wyatt Reed must have stayed near the town hall, because he arrived almost at once.
Every head turned when Wyatt strode into the room. He stood taller than any other man in town, and his hardened yet startlingly handsome face sent whispers through the women present. She hadn’t noticed earlier, but he’d shaved off the stubble of yesterday, revealing cheeks honed to a hard plane and tanned by the sun.
He addressed himself to the mayor. “Ma’am.” He removed his hat and held it in both hands.
“Mr. Reed.” Mayor Evans showed not one ounce of discomfort before the intimidating man. Though considerably shorter in stature, she stood equally confident. “There is some debate over the legality of your claim.”
Mr. Brooks rose beside her, creating a strong and united front. “As I understand the agreement, which Miss Sterling graciously allowed me to peruse, Greenville will have the opportunity to select any of the children that have not yet been taken by the time the Orphan Salvation Society agent reaches their town. It stands to reason that if all the children have been claimed before Greenville, none will be available for selection. There was never a guarantee that any of the children would come to Greenville. Thus, the agreement has not been violated.”
Wyatt’s jaw tensed as he pondered Mr. Brooks’s words. The tiniest flicker of a smile indicated he’d found a crack in that argument. “The way I see it, you’ve forgotten two points. One, the Orphan Salvation Society doesn’t have a formal agreement with Evans Grove. That means this town never had a right to the children in the first place.”
The crowd murmured, but Mayor Evans wasn’t daunted.
“We received approval from the Society to form the selection committee and hold a distribution.”
The murmurs turned to cries of