Her heart thumped so hard she thought he might hear it. She sucked in a steadying breath. Hoping her arms wouldn’t shake noticeably, she took the baby. It was incredibly tiny. Somewhere deep in her being, a protective ache made itself known and she cradled the bundle close.
Heidi stood on tiptoe to peek around Rebecca’s shoulder. She pulled aside a corner of the quilt to look at the baby. “Oh, sweet,” she whispered. Then, as she realized Colton could see her, she ducked back out of sight.
Colton heaved a sigh that Rebecca took for relief. Obviously, he thought she could take care of the little one.
“Very well.” She could do this. “What does it need?”
He shrugged, though it seemed more like a gesture of uncertainty than lack of concern. “Beats me. But I suppose it’s hungry.”
“Then hand me the bottle, please.” She indicated the nursing bottle he held in one hand.
He did so. His fingers were long and firm-looking. A workingman’s hands. Hands that would grip life with an unrelenting grasp.
She pulled her thoughts back to reality and the heart-wrenching wails of the infant in her arms. She rocked. “Shh. Shh.” But the cries did not abate. What was wrong? What should she do? Steeling her face to reveal none of her fears, she shook the bottle then tipped the nipple into the open mouth.
The baby choked.
She jerked the bottle away. Oh, dear God, please don’t let this little one die. At that moment she wished some of her deportment lessons had been forgone for instruction in child care. But, of course, she was expected to follow her mother’s example and let her future children be raised by wet nurses and nannies. Rebecca recalled her nanny from when she was about five. When Miss Betsy left, she remembered crying for days until her mother had forbidden any more tears. Then she’d cried in private, often disappearing into a closet and shutting the door, hiding in the darkness.
Her arms tightened around the baby. No child deserved to know such loneliness and isolation, if it could be avoided. A child belonged in a home where he or she would be loved and valued.
Heidi tapped Rebecca’s shoulder and whispered so softly Rebecca strained to catch her words. “Maybe the baby needs a dry diaper.”
Rebecca stared at Heidi. How did this child know more about infants than she, a grown woman, did? She stilled a sigh. Because Heidi had been taught from an early age to be practical rather than ornamental.
The girl smiled. “Maybe there’s one there.” She indicated the basket, but didn’t move.
Rebecca understood that Heidi didn’t want Colton to see her. The poor girl was terribly self-conscious about the burn scars on her face and arms, especially after they’d kept her from gaining approval from any of the families looking to take in one of the Orphan Salvation Society children. But their time together had left Rebecca feeling very close to Heidi and very protective of the sweet, quiet girl. If she couldn’t find a home for Heidi, the child would live in the orphanage and Rebecca would have to return to New York once she was done here. If her father would allow it, she would take Heidi back to New York and keep her so she wouldn’t have to go to the orphanage. But even if Father did approve, the Society would insist the child be placed in a two-parent family. And anyway, her father would absolutely refuse. Rebecca prayed daily for a loving home for the child and did her best to ignore the ache in her heart at knowing she must say goodbye to Heidi.
She edged toward the basket to consider the contents, letting Heidi follow in her shadow.
Thankfully, Heidi reached around her and searched through the items. “I found one.” Her voice remained low, not wanting Colton to hear her. “And here’s a note.” She handed the piece of paper to Rebecca.
Her heart quivering, Rebecca unfolded the page.
I’m so glad there’s going to be an orphanage where my little boy can be safe. Please take good care of my darling. His name is Gabriel.
She pulled the baby close to her heart. The orphanage wasn’t ready, but she’d take care of this child until it was. But now she had Heidi and the baby in her care. And an orphanage with stalled construction. The baby cried and she jiggled it in a vain attempt to soothe it.
It was a lot to manage. She drew in her chin. But she would do it.
Chapter Two
Rebecca handed the note to Colton, felt his concern even before he read the words.
Heidi tugged at Rebecca’s arm. She bent to catch the child’s soft words. “What does it say?”
She told Heidi that the baby had been left behind.
Little Heidi’s big brown eyes filled with shock. “His mama and papa are gone? Are they dead?” Sorrow hollowed out each syllable.
“I don’t know what’s happened to them.” A number of possibilities came to mind, but none she wished to share with a ten-year-old, especially one who knew all too well the agony of losing her parents.
“Poor little baby.” Heidi reached out and tenderly stroked the tiny cheek.
The baby stopped crying long enough to swallow hard, then began again. He sounded so distressed that Rebecca’s heart threatened to weep in response.
Heidi offered her the diaper.
Rebecca simply stared.
“You want I should do it?” Heidi’s voice carried more eagerness than Rebecca had heard since shortly after they left New York. At that time Heidi had been full of hope for a new, loving family. But at every stop, people had seen her scarred face and turned away.
Perhaps helping care for the baby would ease Heidi’s hurt. “If you’d like.”
Heidi didn’t have any younger siblings, yet she knew what to do. Were some people born with that knowledge? If so, what was she born for? Her mother’s voice answered, Rebecca Gwendolyn Sterling, there is no greater privilege than to run a home, entertain guests and be an asset to your father’s station in life. And when you marry, provide the same for your husband.
The lessons she had learned about maintaining flawless etiquette, organizing superb dinner parties and dressing to the most fashionable degree were all well and good in New York, but here they proved utterly useless. She couldn’t help but wonder if those lessons were truly any more useful in the big city. Certainly her fiancé had found her lacking, despite her rigorous training to be a high-society hostess. She shoved the thought away. She’d vowed not to think about Oliver once she boarded the train on this trip.
At her father’s request—insistence, really—Rebecca had left New York two months ago with thirty children. As an agent under the auspices of the Orphan Salvation Society, she had assisted the late Mr. Arlington in placing children at the various towns in Indiana, Illinois, Iowa and Nebraska. They had been on their way to Greenville—the final stop on their itinerary—when tragedy struck.
She tried to stop the horrifying memories from filling her mind, but they came with brilliant sharpness. The holdup of the train. The bandits making impossible demands. The children crying. The chaos that broke out when the thieves couldn’t open the safe and then the shock of a gunshot echoing through her head and heart. Her mouth still grew parched at the memory. Poor Mr. Arlington. His life ended a few miles from Evans Grove. But good had come even from the darkest of days, since the loss of Mr. Arlington had caused her and the children to settle—temporarily at first—in Evans Grove. If they’d gone to Greenville, most of the children would have ended up in Felix Baxter’s orphanage, farmed out for slave labor. Instead, nearly all the children had found good homes in Evans Grove. All but Heidi, who looked as happy as Rebecca had ever seen her with little Gabriel to care for.
Heidi spread a blanket on a clean board and indicated that Rebecca should put the baby down.
Colton