Allie Pleiter - Family Lessons

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NEXT STOP: HOME After a catastrophe strands a train—and eight orphaned children—near Evans Grove, Nebraska, schoolteacher Holly Sanders sees hope in the chaos. These children are the new start her community needs. And Holly is stubbornly determined to give the townspeople, the children…and even gruff sheriff Mason Wright…the happy families they deserve. How can anyone so petite have so much gumption?Watching Holly rally her young charges wins Mason’s admiration—and reminds him of his own failures. No matter what Holly or the orphan boy Liam think, Mason’s no hero and he doesn’t merit a second chance. Can Holly’s faith, Liam’s trust and God’s grace open Mason’s heart to love’s greatest lesson?Orphan Train: Heading west to new families and forever love

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This was why Pauline made such a good mayor. Holly would have never considered such a thing. “I don’t know,” she confessed.

Pauline sighed looking up and down the numbered streets than ran north-south through town. Evans Grove had a total of eight streets, but Pauline was proud of them all. “I don’t, either.”

“He seemed to be thinking of a long stay, if his bags were any indication. It looked like he brought at least a week’s worth of clothes.”

They reached the front steps of town hall. “That sounds to me like a man ready to scrutinize.”

She sounded as if she were personally under scrutiny. Holly put her hand on Pauline’s arm. “You’ve done such a fine job under such dreadful circumstances. Even if he is here to watch over things, all he’s going to watch over is how well you handle that money. Let him look all he wants. He’ll only find out what a wonderful place this is.”

Pauline’s eyes widened. “That’s a perfectly brilliant idea, Holly.”

“What is?”

“Let him look all he wants. Let’s ask Mr. Brooks if he will serve on the Selection Committee. We can tell him he’s a needed objective viewpoint. He’ll meet everyone and see how well we handle challenges.”

Holly gave Pauline’s arm an encouraging grasp. “You do make a fine, fine mayor. I think it’s an ideal plan, but I won’t take one bit of credit for it. I think you, Mayor Evans, should extend a formal invitation to our new friend Mr. Brooks as soon as possible.”

Pauline turned and went back down the town hall steps. “No time like the present. I think I’ll head over to the hotel right now. Are you headed back to the schoolhouse, then?”

Holly peered down across the square to where she could see Rebecca coming out of the wire office with Sheriff Wright. She looked upset. Who wouldn’t be after having to wire such tragic news? “Charlotte and Amelia are tending to the children this morning. I think I’d best see to Miss Sterling. I’ll need to find out how the placement meetings are run, and she looks as if it’s been hard to send that wire.”

Pauline’s expression tightened. “Of course it’s hard. She’ll need a friend.” She turned to Holly. “Good thing she found one on the train.”

Holly smiled. “She did, didn’t she? Maybe some good can come out of this yet.”

“If you ask me, it already has.”

* * *

Rebecca dabbed her eyes as she and Holly walked toward the schoolhouse. “I knew that wire would be difficult to send, but I’d hoped to handle it better.”

“You’ve been through a tremendous shock. And you’re far from home. No one faults you for grieving Mr. Arlington’s loss. It’s the worst kind of news to have to wire home.” Holly took hold of both of Rebecca’s hands. “And now you’ll have the best kind of news.”

The OSS agent shook her head. “I still can’t believe they agreed.”

“How could they not? The Selection Committee will be formed this afternoon. Of course, you’ll need to be there to help us set up all the specifics.” She gave Rebecca’s hands 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.

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