Orphan Train Sweetheart. Mollie Campbell

to them. The room buzzed with quiet voices. Many of the visitors stood around in clumps talking to each other and watching the proceedings. But one group of people had spread out in front of the line of children and were talking with them in low voices. Simon positioned himself at the boys’ end, hoping to keep an eye on as many of the children as he could at one time.

      A middle-aged couple stood in front of Edwin, their eyes appraising as they listened to him answer their question. Simon was pleased with the way the boy responded. He was respectful—

      “No!” The loud shout broke through the hushed tone in the room, startling Simon. His heart froze and he tried to force air into his lungs. He looked past Edwin to see Charles fighting to pull his arm away from the grip of an older man. Rushing down the line of children, Simon just missed grabbing Charles’s arm as the boy ran by him and escaped out the door. Simon was torn. He hated to leave the group, but he had to go after Charles.

      When his eyes swung to Cecilia, she met his gaze and nodded even as she moved toward him. “The committee will take care of the other children. I’ll help you find Charles.”

      He didn’t want to think about how nice it felt when she fell into step with him as he hurried past gawking people and out the door. Instead he focused on praying that the boy hadn’t gone far. But the schoolyard was empty, as was the street that led to the hotel where they had spent the previous night.

      Turning to Cecilia, he tried not to let panic show, but he was certainly feeling it. He couldn’t let one of the orphans down. Again. “You know this town. Where could a nine-year-old boy hide?”

      She looked down the street, emotions playing across her face as she thought. Then it brightened and she pointed to the next street over. “Maybe the mercantile, around the corner, down Second Street. There are lots of shelves and displays to hide behind and enough people coming and going that he wouldn’t be noticed.”

      Simon nodded in agreement and they took off in the direction she pointed. As they hurried down the dusty street, he tried to piece together what had happened. “Did you see anything? I only heard him shout and caught a glimpse of a man holding his arm, then he was running away before I could stop him.”

      “I saw Mr. Huntley talking with Patrick and Charles. Neither of them looked very happy. But then one of the girls started talking to me and I didn’t see what happened to make Charles run.”

      Stomach clenching, Simon increased his pace. He had to find out what had happened before one of the other children went home with this Mr. Huntley. He and Cecilia entered the mercantile, several customers glancing their way as they barreled through the door. Simon scanned the room. Cecilia was right, this was a great place for a little boy to hide. He went straight to the counter near the front, where a woman in a richly trimmed dress covered by a tidy apron eyed them with derision.

      “Excuse me, we’re looking for a boy who ran from the orphan train placing out. About nine years old, with brown hair and brown eyes. Have you seen him?”

      Raising her chin, the woman managed to look down her nose at him, despite her lack of height. “A ruffian fitting that description tried to come in here a few minutes ago, but I shooed him away. I won’t have my customers’ pockets picked while they shop.”

      Gritting his teeth, Simon managed to thank the woman and leave the store before he lost his temper. The nerve of her, calling Charles a pickpocket. She didn’t know a single thing about these children. But he had been on the receiving end of that kind of quick judgment too many times to count. Lashing out at her wouldn’t do the children any good. Pausing at the corner of the building, Simon sucked in a deep breath. He had to get hold of himself.

      Cecilia’s hand on his shoulder helped drive away the last tendrils of anger. “Simon? Are you all right? We’ll find him, if that’s what’s bothering you.”

      Dropping his head, Simon shook it in response. “No, I’m sure we will. It was that woman’s attitude toward Charles that upset me.” Trying to rein in his irritation, he met her eyes. “I know the prejudice these children will face, even if they find respectable homes. There are too many people in this world that will judge them based only on how their lives started out.”

      He wanted to look away when the familiar heat of embarrassment spread through his chest. He didn’t want to go on, to confess his own history and how close to home that sort of criticism hit. But, oddly enough, Cecilia’s eyes held understanding. “I know how people can judge, too.” Her voice was quiet and her eyes shifted away from his as she continued. “But that’s one good thing about having the schoolteacher on your side. I’m in a great position to make sure these children aren’t treated poorly. By anyone. Now, let’s find Charles and see what happened.”

      An unexpected smile broke out on Simon’s face before he realized what was happening. He hadn’t known Cecilia for long, but he was finding that she was full of surprises. Turning back to the street, he glanced in both directions. “Where do we look now?”

      Cecilia’s head tilted as if she was listening to something he couldn’t hear. She held up one finger, like one of the old schoolmarms from the orphan’s home he’d spent a few months in as a child. Turning around, she took several confident steps into the dark shadows of the alley between the mercantile and the building next to it. “Charles? I know you’re there, dear. Come on out and tell us what happened. We want to make sure you’re all right.”

      Several moments passed but Cecilia never took her eyes off the shadowed space. Simon had decided that she must be a little crazy when he heard scuffling sounds and the slight sniffle of a runny nose. A few seconds later Charles’s face appeared, tear-streaked and dirty even in the dimness of the alley. Simon’s heart lifted in relief. They had found the boy, at least. But now to get him to tell them what had made him run.

      When Charles stepped out of the shadows, Cecilia knelt and wrapped one arm around his thin shoulders. “Tell us what happened. Why did you run away?”

      The boy scuffed his feet in some loose dirt at the edge of the boardwalk, head down. “That old man, he was looking me and Patrick all over. And not very nicely, either. But then he grabbed my face hard and started trying to look at my teeth. Yuck.”

      Cecilia spoke in a soothing tone but Simon didn’t hear her words. Anger burned in his chest and he forced himself to relax, trying to calm it. It wouldn’t do the children any good for him to lose his temper with some old farmer who didn’t think before acting. Smoothing Charles’s messy hair with one hand, he spoke with as much calm as he could muster. “You let us handle Mr. Hartley, Charles. Please come back with us. I know there’s a good family in there waiting to take you home.” At least, he prayed with all his heart that there was.

      Heaving a deep sigh, the boy nodded. Cecilia kept one hand on his shoulder as they walked in front of Simon back to the school. Watching them, Simon’s mind turned to his own childhood, as it did during every orphan train stop. How many young lives would have turned out better if there had been a good woman around who cared about them? Could some observant adult have stopped the tragedies that marred his memories?

      Shaking his head to clear away thoughts of things that couldn’t be changed, Simon reminded himself that he was that adult. He was doing everything in his power to make certain these children found caring homes. His only purpose in life was to place as many children as he could, in the best homes that could be found. No matter that he sometimes longed for his own family. God had placed Simon with the Children’s Aid Society so that he could make up for his failings.

      Back in the schoolroom, Cecilia walked Charles to the line. Simon looked around the room, noticing that three of the girls and two of the boys were gone. Striding over to the table where the approval committee sat with their paperwork, he said, “Gentlemen, could one of you tell me if Mr. Hartley left with a child?”

      One of the men dug through a sheaf of papers and pulled one out, handing it to Simon. “Yes, here’s the form. He took Patrick Dalton.”

      Worry settled in Simon’s heart. “Do you know this Mr. Hartley well? One of the children was frightened by his behavior. I can’t