Her Patchwork Family. Lyn Cote
She needed to get busy and set off for town. The lawyer had told her to be in court at 9:00 a.m. The coming test tightened her midsection. She was pitting herself against the powers of this world.
“What are you children doing here?” A strident female voice flew through the open window, followed by squeals of pain.
Felicity burst through the back door and sailed over the grass toward the woman, her heart outracing her feet. “Stop! Let them go!”
A tall, slender, very well-dressed woman had Katy and Donnie each by an ear. The sight sent anger rushing through Felicity like a hot spring.
The woman was brought up short and glared at Felicity. “These children can’t possibly belong here. This is a respectable neighborhood.”
Pulling them from the woman’s grasp, Felicity drew the children to her. “Katy and Donnie are my guests.” She gasped for air, trying to catch her breath after running in the sultry air.
“Guests?” The woman’s eyes narrowed as they took in every detail of Felicity’s attire and face. “Who are you?”
“I am Felicity Gabriel. Who is thee, please?” Standing very straight, Felicity offered her hand, which was ignored—a sting that tried Felicity’s temper.
“Thee?” the woman snapped, her face crimping up. “Are you some kind of Quaker?”
“There is only one kind of Quaker that I know of.” Taking another sip of the humid air, Felicity tried to keep her irritation out of her tone. “And yes, I am a member of the Society of Friends.”
“Well, I am a God-fearing Christian and this is a respectable neighborhood. We don’t want riffraff from the riverfront here.”
Felicity could think of nothing Christian to say to this so she merely looked at the woman. She knew she wasn’t to judge others, but…
“Why are these children here on Madison Boulevard?” The woman pointed at the ground as though it were sacred ground that Katy and Donnie were not worthy to walk upon.
Felicity gripped her spiraling temper with both hands. “They are here because they had no one to feed them and nowhere to sleep,” she replied in an even tone. “They are doing a few jobs for me in return for food and shelter.”
“You are not from around here,” the woman said, her attractive face reddening like a bull about to charge. “So you don’t know that we keep the river rats and their spawn down at the wharf. We don’t let them roam through town—”
Felicity gritted her teeth. “I met Katy and Donnie at the wharf and invited them home because they are hungry and homeless orphans. I hope to invite many more to come here.” Felicity quoted, “‘Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction.’ So since thee is a God-fearing Christian, I would think thee would be pleased.”
The woman leaned forward as if trying to either read Felicity’s mind or intimidate her. “Are you telling me that you’re starting an orphanage here?”
Felicity’s forced smile thinned. Her hold on her temper was slipping, slipping. “I think ‘orphans’ home’ and ‘orphanage’ are unpleasant titles. They sound so institutional and unkind. This will be the Barney Home for Children. I am going to welcome homeless children into this house and make sure they are kept warm and well fed. So yes, thee can expect to see many more children here in the future.”
The woman began making a sound that reminded Felicity of a dog growling at trespassers. “The law won’t let you disrupt our quiet neighborhood with an orphanage.”
Churning with righteous indignation, Felicity patted the children’s backs, trying to reassure them, and felt their spines sticking out, no padding of fat over the knobby vertebrae. This woman saw only their bare feet and ragged clothing, not their need. Father, help me make her see these children with Thine eyes.
“Mrs. Barney’s lawyer has already checked all the legalities of this charitable work which that good woman requested in her will. She asked me to carry it out in her stead.” Felicity took another breath of the sultry air. “I am breaking no laws. I don’t know why thee assumes that a small number of orphans will disrupt—”
The woman raised her chin another notch. “We don’t want beggars and sneak thieves living among us.”
“Neither do I.” Felicity gazed at the woman, trying to reach the soul behind all the vainglory. “Thee hasn’t introduced thyself. I’d love to talk to thee about my plans—”
“I am Mrs. Thornton Crandall,” she interrupted, “and I am uninterested in your plans to despoil our good neighborhood.”
Mrs. Crandall turned, lifted her skirts as if the ground had been defiled by Katy and Donnie and marched off. The kitchen door behind Felicity opened. She glanced over her shoulder toward the sound.
Vista gave her a wry smile. “I see you met Mrs. Crandall, one of the leading ladies in Altoona society.”
Stirred as if she’d just fought hand-to-hand in the opening battle of war, Felicity shook her head. She tried to return Vista’s smile and failed. How could this woman look at these children and not be moved to pity?
Katy tugged Felicity’s skirt. “Miss, was you telling the truth? Are you going to take in children that don’t have homes?”
“Yes,” Felicity gentled her voice and stooped down. “Katy, would thee and Donnie like to come live here?” With the back of one hand, she touched the little girl’s soft cheek.
Katy looked back and forth between Felicity and Vista. “I’ll think on it, miss.”
“Yes, please do, Katy. We would be so happy to have thee and Donnie with us.” Rising, Felicity squeezed her shoulder. “Now I must get into town. Please do whatever Vista tells thee and I’ll be back by lunch.”
I hope.
Ty walked into the stark, whitewashed courtroom with its polished oak floors as the bailiff declared, “All rise. Judge Tyrone Hawkins presiding.” Ty settled himself on the high platform in the judge’s seat and looked out over the sparsely filled courtroom. And there she was.
The woman with blue eyes he’d seen arrive in town the day before whose purse had been stolen was sitting on one of the spectator’s benches. A tingle of recognition coursed through him. Hadn’t anyone told her that she need not suffer coming to court? He never liked to see ladies in court. It was such a rough setting and often the defendants used coarse language.
No doubt she’d come out of a sense of duty. He tried not to stare in her direction, but she kept drawing his tired, gritty eyes. In this stark setting, she glowed, the only appealing face present.
The first dreary case began and then another, and another. Finally, the boy who’d snatched the newcomer’s purse was ready to be heard, making his plea. The boy was marched into the room by Hogan, the arresting officer. Ty wondered if there was any hope for this lawless child. He hated this part of adjudicating the law. He could not believe that children should be treated as adults by the courts. But what was he to do? The law was the law.
One of the prominent lawyers in town, John Remington, with his silver hair and imposing presence, rose and approached the bench. “I am defending young Tucker Stout.”
The young, already portly prosecuting attorney looked back and forth between the defendant and Remington, his mouth open in disbelief. Ty felt himself goggling at Remington. Surprise crashed through him, making him even more aware of his bone-deep fatigue. Months of little sleep was wearing him down, making him vulnerable. “Did I hear you right?”
“Yes, I am defending Tucker Stout.” The elder lawyer continued in his distinctive, deep voice, glancing over his shoulder. “Miss Felicity Gabriel has hired me to act as his counsel.”
Still unsettled, Ty looked to the woman. She responded with a half smile. Even