a stronger squeeze. “Tomorrow at noon, your children will find their new homes right here in Evans Grove.”
“I don’t know what to say. I feel as if my insides have been untangled and re-tangled a dozen times over. To think two days ago I was packing them up to leave Newfield thinking we were nearly done. Or done for. Really, I was so worried that this lot would never be placed.” She put a gloved hand to her forehead. “We’ve so much to do. I don’t even know if they all have clean clothes.”
Holly swept a hand around the muddy grime that still permeated far too much of Evans Grove’s buildings and streets. “We’re quite used to looking at patches of mud in these parts. A washed face, some combed hair and an eager smile should do just fine. Should you go tell them now?”
“I want you to come, too. It was your idea after all.”
“Oh,” said Holly, fingering her cross necklace. Mama had given it to her for her sixteenth birthday, and she’d not taken it off since, loving it even more when Mama passed three years ago. “I don’t think it was my idea. Given to me, maybe, but not mine.”
“A good idea is only as good as the person who sees it through.”
“Well, then,” Holly said as she pushed open the schoolroom door, “what do you say we see this through together?”
“I couldn’t be more—” Rebecca’s consent was cut short by a high shriek and a flying stuffed rabbit that landed square onto her shoulder.
“Give that back!” came a girl’s voice.
“Make me!” came a deeper reply.
The sound of a squabble—and something large falling over—filled Holly’s ears as tiny Lizzie plowed straight into Rebecca and bawled into her skirts.
“Charlotte?” called Holly at the same moment Rebecca shouted, “Children!” She scooped up Lizzie and handed her the toy rabbit. The child buried her face into the poppet and continued crying frantic sobs.
Heidi, the young girl with the burn scars, walked up with eyes narrowed in disgust. “Patrick’s mean.”
Stepping into the schoolroom, Holly found poor Charlotte outnumbered and overwhelmed. Two of the desks were turned over, half the books were out of their shelves, and what meager belongings the children had were strewn everywhere. “What’s happened in here?”
“Amelia took sick and had to go lie down. They were doing fine until—”
“Patrick t-t-took Bobbins!” Lizzie howled.
“Did not!” countered Patrick as Rebecca put Lizzie down and stalked toward the dark-haired boy. “I found him, that’s what I did.”
“And then you kept him away from Lizzie,” Liam chimed in. “Just to be mean.”
“I thought he was g-g-gone.” Hugging Bobbins fiercely against her chest, Lizzie wiped a runny nose on her sleeve. “All gone and gone and gone.”
“Well, now, I can plainly see he’s not gone at all,” Holly offered in a cheerier tone, pulling Lizzie toward the bookcases. “Do you think he can help you and me and Heidi put these books back on the shelves?”
“You will all help set this room to rights,” Rebecca commanded, “most especially Patrick who will also sweep the room...”
A collection of groans and even a “nyah-nyah” filled the schoolhouse.
“And you will do so in fifteen minutes or less because I have a very important announcement, which I will not share until all is done.” To punctuate her point, Miss Sterling pulled out a filigree pendant watch and peered dramatically at its face.
“I’ll go get Mr. Patrick his broom,” Charlotte said, giving the boy a sour glare. “And Tom should be right behind him with the dustbin, since the two of them partnered up against poor Lizzie.”
Tom, as if it might improve his case, began a spontaneous coughing fit and sat down in one of the desk chairs.
“Thomas White,” Rebecca scolded, “I’d thought better of you. You’ll indeed be right behind Patrick with that dustbin and I expect Miss Sanders to find her floor the cleanest it’s been in years. Friedrich, line those desks back up where they belong. Liam, take Galina and Sasha out to the pump and wash whatever that is off their hands and come straight back.”
“I’ll take care of those hands,” Charlotte offered. “Liam can get the broom and dustbin from the closet in back and help the boys sweep.”
Liam bolted upright at the injustice. “What’d I do?”
“Did you do anything to stop this when it happened?” Holly asked.
Liam rolled his eyes. “Who can stop those two when they get somethin’ into their thick heads?”
“Qui tacet consentire videtur,” Holly quoted, pointing to the small narrow cupboard at the back of the schoolroom.
“Huh?” Liam’s mouth hung open.
“It’s Latin for ‘he who is silent seems to consent.’ A quote from Sir Thomas Moore.” Holly gathered up a stack of slates and handed them to Heidi. “These go up in that red box over there.”
“I didn’t con or sent to nothin’ those two did.” Liam yanked the cupboard door open and nearly speared Patrick with the broom. “I been trying to keep the peace all morning,” he muttered as he handed the dustbin to Tom. “But with nothin’ to do, it’s been mighty hard.”
* * *
Fourteen minutes of grumbling labor later, Holly and Rebecca sat the children at the lines of desks in the now tidied room.
“Thank you for showing Miss Sanders how you can respect her hospitality,” Rebecca began, her hands folded neatly in front of her as she stood before the children. “Yesterday was very difficult for all of us, and I know we’re all very sad about Mr. Arlington. We must all be brave and try to make the best of things.”
“I’m bored,” said Patrick as if boredom were akin to bravery.
“I’m thirsty,” said Tom, managing another cough for emphasis.
“It’s cold in here,” Galina whispered quietly to Holly.
Rebecca held up a silencing hand. “Enough! You’ll have other things to think about if you all will just listen to what I’m trying to tell you. Actually, to what Miss Sanders has to tell you.” She gestured toward Holly.
“The truth of the matter is that everyone in Evans Grove is glad we were able to help you yesterday. As you can probably guess, we’ve had some rough patches of our own since a big storm, and it feels good to do something nice for someone else, doesn’t it?”
Lizzie nodded in agreement, but for the most part the other children didn’t respond.
Holly rubbed her hands together, suddenly failing for the words to convey the right welcome. “Everyone is sad about yesterday, but we do have to make the best of things, and we...we think the best thing may just be for all of you to stay here.”
Tom slumped in his chair. “Who wants to live in a schoolhouse?”
Holly pursed her lips. Why was it suddenly so hard to say what she could barely refrain from shouting to Reverend Turner and the others? “When I say ‘stay here,’ I mean more than in the schoolhouse. I mean really stay. In homes, with families, as a part of Evans Grove. Everyone thinks you should live here and be part of us.”
Liam’s eyes held a tightly checked wonder, as if he wasn’t quite ready to believe what he thought he’d just heard. “You mean live here? For good?”
There was something in his tone, a tender disbelief, that clutched at Holly’s chest. “Yes, Liam, that’s exactly what I mean.”
“What Miss Sanders is saying,” Rebecca