Chapter Three
Amy Brown stood at the threshold of the foundling home, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Her gaze swept over the sea of young, upturned faces that had become like family to her. A bright-eyed little girl tugged at the hem of Amy’s skirt, her small fingers clinging with reluctance.
“Will you come back for us, Amy?” the child asked.
“If I can, Lily,” Amy assured her, bending down to envelop the girl in a warm embrace. “I’ll write letters, and one day, when I have a home as big as my dreams, there’ll be a room waiting for each of you.” She kissed the top of Lily’s head, then stood to face the rest of the children, her eyes glistening but her smile unwavering.
“Remember what I always say,” she said. “‘No matter where we go, we carry a piece of each other’s hearts.’ So, be good to Mrs. Jackson, okay?”
“Okay, Amy!” they chimed in unison.
With a final wave, Amy turned away, hefting her modest carpetbag over her shoulder. The morning sun cast a golden hue across the Massachusetts landscape, heralding the dawn of her new adventure.
As she approached the wagon where eight other women awaited, a sense of camaraderie washed over her. These were her sisters in all but blood, each having grown under the same roof of the foundling home. Their faces mirrored Amy’s own emotions: excitement and uncertainty. It was so strange to feel both at the same time.
“Ready to make our mark, ladies?” Amy called out.
“Ready as we’ll ever be!” Brenda replied, her hands gripping the wooden edge of the wagon.
“Imagine, Fort Worth!” Faith said, her words carrying the thrill of possibility.
“Think of all the baking I can do there,” Amy mused aloud, already picturing the kitchen she would one day call her own. “Cakes, pies, bread...enough to feed a dozen kids, at least.”
Laughter bubbled among them, an easy sound that mingled with the creak of the wagon wheels as they rolled forward.
“No kids for me,” Cassandra said. “I’ve had enough of kids in the foundling home and then teaching.” She shuddered. “If I never have to touch another child, it will be too soon.”
“Speak for yourself,” Amy shot back playfully. “I’m after a family, not just a husband.”
“Those sound like the same thing to me,” Faith said.
As the foundling home shrank behind them, Amy’s thoughts drifted to the future—a future ripe with the promise of love and a home brimming with laughter.
LESS THAN A WEEK LATER, the girls arrived in Fort Worth. The train ride, which had been so exciting at first, had turned into sheer monotony. Amy had spent her time making herself two aprons that covered the entire front of her dress. “I can’t wait to make my husband breakfast,” she said softly to Brenda.
“I’m more enthusiastic about the marital bed than I am about cooking,” Brenda said. “I’m really excited to see how it feels when he...” She shook her head. “Sorry, sometimes my words get away from me.”
Amy laughed softly. She and Brenda had discussed the same topic more times than she could count. Just not within earshot of Mrs. Jackson, who they all thought of as a mother. “Onlytwo more stops and we’re there. We have to go through Dallas, and then it’s Fort Worth! Elizabeth said her sister Susan will be waiting at the train station with their biggest wagon, and their other sister Alice will be there with a wagon as well.”
“Have you heard when the party will be?” Brenda asked.
Amy shook her head. “Even if I had, I couldn’t tell you,” she said. “You can’t keep a secret to save your life.”
“So it’s a secret?” Brenda asked.
“Not that I know of.”
Brenda sighed. “Sometimes I just want to slap you, and then I remember how much I love you, and I don’t.”
“I appreciate that you control yourself,” Amy said, and the two dissolved into giggles. Brenda was closest in age to Amy, and they felt like they were real sisters, both of them twenty-two and the first of the children who had arrived at the home after Mrs. Jackson took over. Mrs. Jackson had named the girls according to the alphabet. The nine of them were: Amy, Brenda, Cassandra, Deborah, Erna, Faith, Gail, Hannah, and Imogene.
Some of the children came to the home with their names. Some had to be named. The ones who didn’t already have a name were given the last name Brown.
At the train station in Fort Worth, there were two women waiting, but they looked more like mother and daughter than sisters. What was the age difference in Elizabeth’s family?
Brenda and Amy both ended up in Alice’s wagon, so Brenda asked. “Are you sure Susan is your sister and not your mother?”
Amy looked at her friend, hissing, “That’s rude!”
