The Gift of a Child

Seth nodded at his wagon. “Can I give you a lift? I’ll pass right by the office.”

“Wouldn’t say no,” the doctor said.

The two men fell silent as they rode along, each lost in his own thoughts. Before they reached their destination, Seth wondered whether the footprints he and Sophie had discovered several days ago might provide helpful evidence. One adult. One child. He turned to Ezra. “I’m coming with you.”

* * *

Midmorning of the next day, Rose heard a buggy pull in front of the house and out stepped her sister. Picking up Alf, she raced outside. “Lily, oh, Lily.” Overcome by emotion, she couldn’t go on, burying her head in her sister’s embrace.

In Lily’s eyes she read all the concern and love she had expected. “This must be Alf,” Lily said. She grazed a hand over the boy’s head. “A wonder.” She held out her arms, but Alf remained stubbornly in Rose’s grasp. Lily turned and lifted a basket from the buggy. “I’ve brought a few play things. A set of blocks, a book of nursery rhymes and a wooden wagon model.” She looped her hand through Rose’s free arm and started toward the house. “I think what we should do is make a list of his needs and solicit our friends and neighbors.”

“But no one knows he’s here yet.” Something clenched inside Rose. She wanted to keep Alf a secret for a bit longer and avoid sharing his story with the curious and the critical.

Lily raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “Darling Rose, you know better. Seth said Papa was at the mercantile and that they both went to the sheriff’s office. Believe me, the word is out. I’m just relieved to get here in time to fend off all the folks who will be stopping by to hear about Alf.”

Rose kissed the top of Alf’s head. “So soon?”

In Lily’s expression, she read sympathy tinged with reproach. “The child is yours for now. I have a suspicion what that means to you. What you would like to see happen.” They had reached the front door, and Lily turned to her. “Rose, I will tell you what Mother would say. This little boy is God’s own child. Right now, He is using your hands and heart to tend him. Pray for His will to be done for Alf...and for you.”

Rose acknowledged the truth of her sister’s advice, but it would be difficult to be patient, hoping that the sheriff never found Alf’s parents. She cringed—that was an unworthy sentiment. How could she wish that a child be permanently separated from his mother and father? That was a sin even beyond envying her sister’s good fortune in giving birth to Mattie. Was she acting from purely selfish motives? Just then Alf left her embrace to run across the floor to pick up Ulysses.

Lily chuckled. “My, that cat has certainly taken to your boy.”

“As have I,” Rose murmured. In that moment, she felt a ray of hope. Surely God wouldn’t give her Alf just to rip him away from her. The God she worshipped would never be that heartless.

Chapter Three (#ulink_aac5c98c-3889-50d3-b316-fd764d3bd6fc)

Carrying Ulysses with him, Alf retreated into a corner of the kitchen, his back turned on Rose and Lily, his attention centered on the blocks Lily had given him. He made not a sound, only occasionally turning his head as if to assure himself Rose was still in the room. Rose fixed tea for herself and her sister, then joined Lily at the kitchen table. Lily pulled a piece of paper and a pencil from her pocket. “Let’s make a list of the boy’s needs. I know others will want to help either by sewing or passing along hand-me-downs.” She licked the pencil tip and began. “Undergarments, trousers, shirts, stockings...” Her voice faltered. Rose stared off in the distance, knowing she should be contributing to the list but unable to think. Her sister gripped her forearm. “Rose, are you all right?”

Rose’s eyes filled with tears and she nodded at the boy quietly building a wall of blocks. In a whisper she said, “It’s hard to plan, when he may be taken from me at any moment.”

“You must care for him gladly for as long as you have him.” Lily eyed her with concern. “It’s only realistic to assume his parents will be found.”

“I know.” Rose struggled to explain. “Sheriff Jensen came yesterday morning after Papa and Seth informed him of our situation. He asked all kinds of questions. How had I found the boy? Had I noticed any strangers skulking about in the past few days? Had the boy said anything to provide clues?” Rose pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and swiped at her tears. “He searched the barn, examined the note, then tried to talk to Alf, who buried his head in my shoulder and wouldn’t even look at the sheriff. All the while I wanted to stop the investigation, to beg the man to leave us be.”

“Oh, Rose. I know how attached you’ve become to Alf, but he is not yours.”

“But in my heart he is, Lily, he is.” She lowered her voice. “Did Papa tell you we suspect he’s been mistreated?”

“If that is so, let us hope such callous, unworthy parents will not be found.”

“I pray that may be the case.”

“Sheriff Jensen is only doing his duty, Rose.”

“I know that. He’s already notifying law enforcement offices throughout the region and is having one of his deputies draw up and distribute posters.” She caught her breath. “I can’t bear to think of Alf’s picture on display all over the territory.”

“But if it helps?” Her sister gazed into her eyes, as if by a look she could force reason.

“You think I’m being foolish.”

“Not foolish, my dear. I know you already love the boy, but I don’t want to see you get your heart broken.” Lily paused, as if garnering resolve. “You’ve always been the more practical of the two of us. You know a search is the right and necessary thing to do.”

Rose bit her lip, her emotions at war with her intellect. Finally, she nodded. “It’s so hard.”

“I understand, but in the time you have with little Alf, you must live as Mother always did.”

Rose paused to reflect on her precious mother and her difficult last days at Fort Larned. The influenza had ultimately carried her off. Yet even at the last, she’d admonished her daughters with the words Rose now repeated. “We only have today. Live each moment fully.”

“Exactly. That advice served Mother well and it has served us well.”

For the first time since Lily had arrived, Rose managed a smile. “I’ll try.”

“All right, then.” Lily picked up the abandoned list. “Sunday clothes. That’s a must. You will want to show off Alf next Sunday at services.”

From the corner came a loud crash followed by a feline shriek. “Gone!” Alf cried. Sure enough, the wall had been destroyed. “I’ll do it again.”

Rose watched fondly as he began reconstructing the wall. “I hope it will be as easy for us to help him rebuild his life.”

“It is in God’s hands, Rose, one day at a time.”

* * *

The next Sunday was a lovely day, the hint of a breeze ruffling the ladies’ bonnets and the fragrance of flowers and newly mown grass mingling in the air. As the congregation gathered before the service, many were still talking about the previous Sunday’s ice cream social. Ezra, Rose and Alf had taken advantage of the temperate weather to walk to the church. Yet far from relaxing, Rose clutched Alf’s hand and prayed for his smooth introduction to the townsfolk. Over the past few days Bess Stanton, Willa Stone, Horace Clay’s wife Essie and a few others had stopped by the house to welcome Alf and to bring gifts of clothing, toys and food. Rose hoped their generosity was a harbinger of things to come this morning.

No sooner had she and her father settled in the pew with Alf huddled between them, than Rose became aware of discreet stares, a few audible tsks and condemnatory looks on the faces of Chauncey and Bertha Britten, sitting directly across the aisle. Then with no attempt to lower her voice, Bertha punched her husband in the side and said, “I declare. What does Rose Kellogg think she’s doing bringing that half-breed in here?”

Anger and defensiveness overwhelmed Rose, and she longed to call the woman to task. How dare Bertha speak so uncharitably, and in church of all places. Before she could act on her impulse, the congregation rose for the opening hymn, “Savior Like a Shepherd Lead Us.” Rose choked on the line “much we need thy tender care,” thinking of Alf and his need of “tender care.” Then, as if her mother were whispering in her ear, the words “Trust in the Lord always” rose in her heart, defusing her anger.

During the pastor’s sermon, she found herself watching Seth Montgomery, as usual seated near the front with his family. She had been unprepared last Monday for the way he had so immediately gained Alf’s trust. If she hadn’t already witnessed his devotion to Mattie, she would never have believed the man could’ve intuited what Alf needed. The little boy interrupted her reverie by crawling onto her lap and sitting back against her chest, solemnly studying his surroundings. Then smiling, he pointed and called out, “Sett!”

The Brittens glared at him and Rose heard a few shushes, but Seth turned around, his eyes sparkling, and waved at Alf. “My Sett,” the boy mumbled before settling contentedly against Rose. “Big.”

Leaving the church after the service, the Brittens skirted Rose and Alf, as if fearing contamination. When Bertha passed by, she hissed at Rose, “What are you thinking? You, an unmarried woman!” Once again, Rose barely withheld her retort, saved from injudicious action by Seth, who gathered a delighted Alf in his arms and led them out to the churchyard.

Fuming, Rose turned to her father and Seth. “Did you hear Bertha?”

Ezra nodded. “You’ll have to expect some of that from the more judgmental folks.”

“Rose, don’t waste your energy on them,” Seth advised, all the while jouncing Alf in his arms.

“Sett. You, me. Big!”

In response, Seth lifted the boy skyward and whirled around to Alf’s delighted laughter.

Seth’s playfulness had settled Rose’s blood pressure. He seemed the most even-dispositioned of men. She couldn’t think of a time at their family gatherings when she had ever seen him out of sorts. Quiet, yes. Content to observe, but never surly.

Lily, Caleb and Mattie approached, and when Seth saw them, he lowered Alf to the ground, where he stood clinging to Seth’s leg. Rose held her breath, praying Mattie would not be jealous of the boy and the attention he was receiving from her beloved uncle. She need not have worried. Mattie toddled toward Alf, flung her arms around him and laughed gleefully. “Brudder,” she said.