Deborah Camp Read Free

“He looks fit.”
    Elise pressed her lips together to keep from sobbing aloud. She’d prayed that Adam’s new parents would extend loving arms and warm kisses. This old man acted as if he’d bought himself a mule! Maybe he’d just come to fetch Adam and there was a loving family waiting back at the homestead. This might be his new grandfather, and the woman called Harriet might be his new older sister. She prayed for this scenario.
    “Don’t forget to sign the adoption papers and leave a set for us. Just hand them to me or Mrs. Gadstone,” Mr. Charles instructed.
    “That’s all there is to it?” the man asked, taking Adam by the arm.
    “Yes, sir. Congratulations.” Mr. Charles patted Adam on the back. “You be a good boy. You’re lucky to have a new home. Remember that.”
    Elise edged around a post to watch the man and woman lead her brother away. Adam glanced back several times, each longing look tearing chunks out of Elise’s heart.
    “Where’s he going?” Penny asked, her voice rising with anxiety. “Adam! Adam! Take me, too!”
    Mrs. Gadstone tried to quiet Penny by offering her a sucker, but Penny continued to whimper and cry out for her brother, her high-pitched voice sending shudders of agony through Elise. Unableto stop herself, Elise reached out a hand to Adam, her fingers trembling, tears spilling onto her cheeks. But she stood rooted to the spot when another number rang out.
    “Twenty-eight,” Mrs. Gadstone announced.
    Penny! Oh, sweet Jesus! Not little Penny! Elise covered her mouth with her fingers, trapping a sob that quivered in her throat. Oh, the pain! She’d never known such agony, not since that terrible day when Papa and Mama had died. This was worse, though. This was the last of her family, and they were being parceled off like rations. She must stop them! If she had to kidnap her own kin, then so be it!
    But the brave plan crumbled. She had no way to feed her brother and sister, no roof to spread over their heads, no money to buy clothes for them. She’d be lucky to make her own way without having to resort to selling herself in an upstairs room of some liquor palace.
    “Number twenty-eight! I believe … yes, it’s this little girl here.”
    Penny sniffed, wiped her eyes and stuck the sucker in her mouth, oblivious of what awful fate might lie ahead of her. Her innocence wrenched at Elise’s heart and brought a new wash of tears to her eyes.
    “Who has number twenty-eight?” Mr. Charles asked. “Speak up, please!”
    Yes, yes, speak up! Elise thought. Get this over with. Don’t prolong this torture. Her fingers and toes grew cold and she wondered if she might be slowly dying.
    As if in a dream, Elise watched the tall Indian called Lonewolf stride forward, a sheet of parchment clutched in his hand. No, it couldn’t be! Nothim! She cringed, thinking of her little sister being raised by a savage. He must have been sent by someone … maybe he was a manservant to a rich farm family!
    Mr. Charles glanced disdainfully at him. Elise clutched at the garnet material covering her heart even as the Indian parted his lips to speak.
    Dear God, not him!
    His voice emerged deep and booming, like thunder on the plains. “She belongs to me.”
    For an instant, blackness swam before Elise’s eyes. Only her stubborn will kept her upright, although the train platform seemed to rock beneath her feet.
    “You?” Mr. Charles aimed the tip of his sharp nose at the Indian. “Who sent you here?”
    “No one sent me. This child is mine.”
    Elise stumbled forward to grasp a support post. She held onto it, her fingernails digging into the wood. Suddenly she wished that she and her siblings had died right along with their mother and father. Death would be better than this living hell. Being separated, sent to the ends of the earth, raised by cold old men and red-skinned savages—it was barbaric!
    Lonewolf extended the paper he held. “It says so here. I am to have number twenty-eight. A girl