AN:I know this was posted before, but I reread it and found some spots that needed some changing. Also, hopefully more people will read and review if I post a litlte more slowly. So, I'm working on the other chapters also.

Miracle: I love your new story. So creative! Hopefully we can work on my next one soon!

Disclaimer: Yea, don't own newsies, Disney does. They'll hurt me if I say otherwise. Also, don't steal people! It's not nice...

Chapter 1
The chaos from the last two weeks since the incident had finally settled and Jack was relieved for the normalcy that came with the everyday routine of selling papers. News of his rescue had spread throughout the lower class neighborhood sparking groups of people to randomly shake his hand and ask for his signature. There had even been an article about him in the paper. Apparently the attacker had been wanted by New York City police for quite some time and had been hiding out in the Park for several days. The hype didn't faze Jack and he found it odd to hawk a headline about himself.
Most people just wanted to hear his side of the story but in all honesty Jack didn't remember much of the fight. The doctors said that it was a result from all the blood he'd lost. So Jack let Race and Skittery do the story telling. They'd been with him that day and had witnessed the whole ordeal. Skittery knew how to make the crowds gasp at the right moments and Race made them all laugh with his little side comments. Jack sat back and listened, distancing himself from all the attention that he would have normally welcomed. In fact, his friends had begun to notice the sudden mood shift in Jack, blaming it on his recovery.
Jack did remember one thing from that day, one part of the story that Skittery never included in his version. It was of two penetrating brown eyes completed with a soothing voice. Jack had replayed the scene in his mind thousands of times and couldn't understand what the voice was saying but understood that it was comforting words. The image seemed to be the main focus of Jack's daydreams as of late and was the cause of why he had become so withdrawn. Listening to the stories from his friends Jack had determined that the eyes belonged to the sister of the boy he'd saved. Race claimed that she had been the one to call for help and had also fretted over Jack after he'd collapsed. And as Jack had suspected, her family had paid for his four day stay in the hospital, the pain killers given to him on release from the hospital and the new clothes to replace the shirt and pants that had been ruined during the fight.
Obviously this girl was grateful that Jack had saved her brother. But Jack couldn't help but remember those eyes and imagine that her compassion resulted from somewhere deeper within her. He wanted to meet her, to thank her for her kindness, to simply know her name. But the doctors said she'd returned to Boston with her family a day after the incident. She had visited him in the hospital but no more information had been given to the curious Jack.
She was what haunted him, made him lose his train of thought every now and then. When he had been healthy enough to resume selling, he'd watch every girl who passed him, searching for a pair of eyes that matched the image in his mind. The other newsies found his behavior strange. They teased him for getting his hopes up. Why would a rich thing like her want to hang with a bum like you, Kelly? they'd snicker. Find her and see if she has that cowboy hat of yours. No one believed that he would be able to find her, which made Jack even more determined to succeed.
He figured in his mind that the most logical thing would be to return to the scene of the crime. Selling in Central Park and in the surrounding upper class areas was risky. The police didn't encourage the presence of the boys in the nicer areas. But that was the only way Jack could think of finding his mystery girl. The papers had covered the rescue so intensely that news must have spread among the circle of high society folk. While selling he could casually ask if they knew of the family that had been involved. As far as he was concerned, his plan would work.
It had to, and he'd keep on looking until it did.

please don't jump on your bed like that. Your mother, she'll be very upset if you fall off again. Frustrated, Maggie turned as someone entered the room. Ah, Miss Evie. Please get your brother into his bed as opposed to bouncing on it. You're the only one who can get him to sleep!
Evie smiled at the frazzled maidservant before turning to her brother. Evie, look! I'm a cowboy! Just like Jack. The cowboy hat on Brody's head was much too large but the boy didn't seem to mind as it slipped over his face.
Pulling on Brody's leg so that he fell to the mattress with one final bounce, Evie fixed the new beloved cowboy hat on the bedpost. Right, just like Jack. In fact, I think you and Jack need to go for a ride. Do you know where you can meet him?
In my dreams! Maggie shook her head at the childhood fantasy, watching as Evie slid next to her brother on the bed.
Right, but to dream you have to be really still, close your eyes Brody followed his sister's instructions, pulling the covers up to his chin and squeezing his eyes shut. You have to relax and think of Jack, sitting atop the horse. Can you see him? The boy nodded silently, already starting to doze. Perfect. Sweet dreams. Evie placed a gentle kiss on her brother's baby soft forehead. Tell Jack I said hello.
She exited the room with Maggie silently, secretively taking the cowboy hat with her and looking back on Brody one more time. Be a good boy Brody, listen to Mama and don't forget that your big sister loves you very much. She hid the hat behind her back as Maggie began to speak. You and little Brody can't get enough of this Jack fellow can you Miss Evie. I wish I had been able to meet the lad.
Evie sighed, moving down the hall towards her room so that she too could dream of Jack. Maggie, you would have loved him. He was so brave and I wish he would have woken before I had left the hospital.
The two stopped in front of Evie's room. How is it Miss that you know so much about this boy if you didn't say more than two words to him?
Maggie! I saw him fight that horrible man and when he collapsed I was there holding him. He smiled at me then, right before he lost all consciousness. And then, when I was in the hospital room, he squeezed my hand when I was speaking with him. As if he could hear what I was telling him. I wonder sometimes what he is doing at that moment. Where in New York he is
Miss Evie, Maggie began, opening the door to the bedroom, your imagination is much to rosy and romantic. This boy is probably
Oh, don't say it Maggie. Let me have this little dream for myself. She kissed Maggie's cheek quickly before ducking into her room. The door shut silently and Evie pulled a nightgown over the dress she was wearing. Slipping into her bed she checked under her mattress, making sure her small sac was still there and adding the cowboy hat to the pile. Finding it right where she had packed it earlier that day, she pretended to sleep so that when her parents came to check on her they thought she was fast asleep, unaware of what her plan was for the rest of the night.
It was past midnight when she finally had the nerve to slip silently from her room and out the front door. Running around to the stables in back she hoped Rudy would still be waiting where she'd asked him to be. Sure enough the boy was leaning up against the large oak tree, the reins to Clover in his hand. He had dozed off and woke up startled when she nudged him.
Miss Evie! I didn't think you were going to come. Now please, why is it that you asked me to meet you here?
She pushed her sac into his hands and mounted Clover. Rudy, it is best that you know nothing. That way, when Papa questions you, you can answer him honestly. She reached for her bag and the dumbfounded young man handed it to her.
He scratched at his head. But Miss Evie, where are you going on such a night. She turned the horse around, facing the road that would lead her around the back of her house and eventually meet up with the road that ran parallel to the train tracks.
she whispered, her heart panicking at how much time she had wasted already. Go back to sleep. I know what I'm doing. Before the boy could protest she cantered off, Clover feeling her anxiety and moving freely. If she kept at this pace, she'd reach the train depot early the next morning and be in New York late that night. She was confident that that was as much of a head start as she needed. Papa wouldn't know where to look for her.
The ride was silent and if she hadn't been escaping she would have enjoyed the cool summer breeze. Her thoughts drifted as she moved further and further away from the only home she'd known. She focused on her dream of New York and her dream of Jack. Her plan was simple—find that boy and see if he was truly the man she'd built him up to be in her mind. There was a large risk of disappointment and a greater risk of losing herself amongst the trash of New York City. But being locked up for seventeen years had caused her nerves to bubble to the point where she felt forced to do something drastic. This was as drastic as she could hope for. And the reward, as unlikely as it was, would be worth it.
As it happened, she made it to the station earlier than she expected. She refreshed Clover at a tying post before moving on to her next line of business. She found a boy resting a few yards away, his face dirty and shoes worn. Excuse me, the boy eyed her warily before jumping to his feet and patting his dusty clothes. Do you know where Hunter County is? The boy nodded silently. I need you to deliver this horse there, no questions asked. Here is the address. She handed him a scrap of paper. When you arrive, tell them Evie sent you and present them with this. She reached into the bottom of her bag and pulled out a silver breast pin with her initials on it. The boy fingered the jewelry before slipping it and the paper into his pocket. Evie continued, reaching for her coin purse. To assure that you do as I'm instructing, here is a good sum of money. You would not get this much for the pin and the horse if you sold it around here so I suggest you do as I ask. Can I trust you?
Yes Miss, The boy spoke softly and reached for the reins. Evie passed them over and said good bye to Clover. The two began to walk away when Evie suddenly stopped them. Wait, how much would a hat like yours cost?
About five pence, miss. The floppy hat atop his head reminded Evie of the kind that the newsies had worn. Inside her bag was Jack's cowboy hat but for some reason she needed the hat atop the boys sandy blonde hair.
Listening to her instinct, she tossed him the money. Please, can I have it? Completely confused at this point the boy handed Evie his hat.
Miss, I'll warn ya cause you'se been awful nice ta me. A lady of youra class shouldn' be walkin' round these paats by themselves. Having said his piece the boy turned and headed in the direction Evie had come.
The train station was busier than Evie remembered it being but she fought against the nagging voice of her father that lived inside her head and bought the train ticket for New York. She could only afford the third class seats and the experience provided her with a glimpse of what life in New York would most likely be like. But this didn't falter her excitement as the prospect of her dream coming true became more and more real. She arrived in New York late that same day, tired, exhausted and feeling extremely dirty. She knew she had to find a place to sleep for the night and following a mother and her two children, Evie joined them in an abandoned train car on the South end of the station.
She woke up surprisingly refreshed and gathering her bag, ventured out of the station into the busy surrounding streets. This view of New York City was drastically different from what she'd encountered only two weeks prior. Instead of the men dressed in fine suits and the mothers pushing their pampered children in carriages there were women with laundry baskets on their heads, men shouting in several different languages and children running in between the legs of the crowd. The sights, sounds and smells would have repulsed Papa but for Evie, her eyes couldn't capture the scene fast enough. She mingled through the crowd, buying a light breakfast and people watching until a voice knocked her out of her day dream.
The voice belonged to a young boy standing on the corner edge, a newspaper in his hand. This reminded Evie of her ever-present task. She did not look forward to sleeping on the streets alone for another night so she began part two of her plan. She figured that the boy himself might not know Jack but the man who ran the distribution center might. She pushed through the crowd and stopped in front of the boy, politely refusing the paper he offered her. But when he realized she was not a customer, he turned his attention elsewhere. Please, where did you get that paper?
The boy glanced at her quickly before yelling a headline again and selling a paper to another man. You want a pape lady, den dis hears the place ta get it. His accent was so strong; Evie listened intently and tried to understand what he was saying.
No, I don't want a paper, but if you could tell me where you bought those papers I'd be much obliged. The boy turned then, her fancy words and proper English drawing his attention. He looked her up and down before giving her a look that she knew all to well. She placed the money in his outstretched hand. Will this cover your services?
The boy tipped his hat smugly before pointing to a building across the street. Pleasure doin' business wit ya miss.
Evie sighed and trudged across the street, scolding herself for not being more observant. She only had enough money to last for the next couple days and she couldn't be handing it out to people like that anymore. That boy knew I wasn't from around here. Start acting tougher Evie. Entering the distribution center she was prepared to wait in the long line of boys who were getting the afternoon edition of the paper. But she was quickly noticed by the boys and they separated in line letting her pass and curious as to why this girl was wandering around the distribution center. When she finally reached the front desk she flashed her sweetest smile at the craggy old man that stood between her and Jack Kelly.
Good afternoon, sir. He simply grunted a response. I was wondering if you could tell me where Jack Kelly lives. The man gave her a look of great impatience.
Neva hoid a dat name round dese parts. Now do ya want some papes or what?
Evie stood her ground. Please sir, it's of great importance that I find
He banged a set of newspapers on the counter in front of her, making her jump and pull her hands away from where she'd been resting them. How many papes Miss! His voice was gruff and frightening. Turning without another word, Evie gripped her bag of possessions tightly and moved backwards through the line easily as the boys stepped out of her way. They eyed her strangely, some snickering at her naiveté, others at her strange clothes. She knew her face was red and she was determined not to cry in front of the mean old man.
Miss, miss, please wait She turned at the sound of a voice and saw a smaller boy pushing his way through the crowd. He stopped in front of her and removed his hat, a flop of hair covering one eye. Miss, I heard ya askin for a Jack Kelly back dere.
Evie's eye light up. Yes, do you know where I can find him?
The boy led her out of the distribution office and across the street to where there were fewer people around. Well no, he said slowly, eyeing her cautiously. He noticed her lips purse nervously so he continued quickly. I mean I'se heard of em but met im personally. Nah. But I know someone who does. He's real good friends with Jack. Evie could have kissed the boy at that point she was so happy.
Please, can you bring me to him?
the boy held out his arm, Evie's excitement rubbing off on him. It'll be a long walk though. I'se live in Brooklyn and normally I sell dere. Today I was just tryin some new techniques up hea on da Lower East Side. But in Brooklyn, dats where Spot is
Who is Spot? Evie asked, walking at the same fast pace as the boy.
Oh, he's da leada of da Brooklyn newsies. He and Jack are good pals. Tonight deres a meetin of all da Brooklyn newsies. Dats where we're goin so dat you can meet Spot. Evie nodded her head, trusting this boy who looked like an older version of her brother. By da way, da names Frankie.
Evie, delighted to meet you Frankie. If possible the walk to Brooklyn was ten times more exciting than the streets surrounding the train station. Frankie pointed out all the different sections of Manhattan, telling her what types of people to avoid and what places the newsies frequented. Evie listened intently, asking question after question. She tried to avoid any questions Frankie had as to why she was looking for Jack in the first place. But she knew the boy had come to some conclusions about her, just by the way she spoke and the clothes she wore. By her reactions alone to all the city sights, it was obvious she wasn't a native.
When they arrived at the lodging house, Frankie led her inside to where the meeting was being held. Never in her life had Evie been surrounded by so many boys. They were practically hanging from the ceiling, all listening intently to one boy who sat at the head of the pack. If she hadn't been so nervous, she would have been amazed by how organized the group of so called street rats seemed to be. Dat's Spot. Frankie whispered, pointing to the boy who was speaking at the moment.
Okay, if deres nothin' else den wese can all head outta here. The boys nodded in agreement, ready to leave until Frankie raised himself above the rest.
Wait! Spot I've got something. The boys groaned in protest.
Spot peered into the crowd and nodded at Frankie. What is it Frankie? He motioned to the rest of the group. The rest of ya can leave.
Pushing against the current of fleeing newsies, Frankie grabbed Evie's hand and pulled her to the front of the room. When the two stopped in front of Spot, it was obvious that the leader was surprised to see the girl standing there. He turned to Frankie. Franks, whos dis?
Evie, nice to meet you Spot. Evie reached out her hand and as Spot shook it slowly, Frankie explained.
She's lookin' for Jack. It told her you'se two are friends. The boy smiled triumphantly at Evie who nodded her head and watched Spot intently. He certainly wasn't as enthusiastic as she was but she continued, too close to her goal to quit now. I was wondering if you could bring me to him.
I don't think so. Spot muttered after a moment's hesitation.
Evie looked at Frankie nervously, then back to Spot. But you said you were friends with him. I-I don't understand what the problem is
Spot tapped his walking stick on the floor and eyed Evie up and down. Well you see missy, I am good friends wit Jacky-boy. Best friends and dats precisely why I can't just lead you to him without knowin why.
Evie's mind worked quickly and she understood where Spot was coming from. He was trying to protect his friend. Thinking what to do next, the two held the other's eye. Evie was the first to speak. If I tell you, will you let me meet him?
Spot wasn't going to give anymore and Evie knew he was the only one she needed to woo to her side. If she wanted to see Jack she had to go through Spot.
Okay. I met Jack two weeks ago when he saved my little brother in Central Park. I wanted to thank
Spot's eyes had grown larger as Evie spoke and he nodded his head quickly. You'se dat goyl, huh? Evie looked confused but Spot continued, rushing into the next room and calling out behind him. Wait hea a minute. He shooed some newsies out of the room and motioned for Frankie and Evie to enter. Shut the door Franks.
The three stood inside the side bunkroom, Frankie hopping onto one of the top bunks and Spot settling below. Evie stood, as if on trial, her hands hanging limp in front of her with her bag. She was waiting for Spot to begin; he had made their conversation secret for some reason so it was his duty to begin it again. So Jacky-boy was tellin da truth. He really does have a brown eyed guardian angel. It was Evie's turn to look confused as Spot laughed softly to himself. Jack's been thinkin of ya non stop fo two weeks. We'se all thought he was mad, talkin about dis rich goyl. But lookie hea, you'se standin' right in front o mine eyes.
What do you mean Jack has been looking for me? Evie nervously fiddled with a stray string on her bag.
Well, I mean. Not youse in particula. He don't know ya name but he said he remembas those big brown eyes of yours. Spot motioned for Evie to sit down on the bed opposite him. So whats your deal wid Jack. Why run away from a cushy life? I'se assumin you ran away
Evie nodded her head and picked her words carefully. There was something about him. I—well, this cushy life you refer to isn't as lovely as you would imagine. And I couldn't stop thinking about what you all were doing here in New York. I wanted to meet him andI don't really know what else. It's hard to explain.
Spot and Frankie just nodded their heads. Well, I can't just let ya walk up ta him. Evie began to protest, she'd up held her end of the bargain, but Spot stopped her by holding up his hand. How do ya think he'll react to da news? Why'se a goyl like you gonna give up riches ta be wit da low lifes? How do we know ya won't split in a couple of weeks? Jack ain't had good meetin's with you'se type. He'll be suspectin a catch if you seek him out.
But I told you why I want to meet him and I couldn't go back even if I wanted to. Papa would never She got this distant look in her eyes then and Spot knew that she was genuinely interested in Jack. Her intentions were true.
He sighed, racking his brain for some sort of plan. He liked the leverage he held in the situation. This girl would listen to what he had to say. Of course, he wanted Jack to be happy, and he'd make sure the two got together, but he'd have a little fun with it first. Okay, so dis is what we'se gonna do. Franks, go grab some of da extra clothes upstais. Pair of pants, a shirt, I think dere's a skoit up dere somewhere. Frankie slipped out of the room, his footsteps echoing above them. Spot faced Evie and watched her silently as she sat, back straight, hands folded politely in her lap. She held her head high, which was good, but she just oozed money and respectability. Her actions were refined, her speech too pretty, and her manners the opposite of what she'd find on the street. You wanna be wit Jack?
She blushed, as Spot had expected she would. I don't think that's any of your business.
'Corse it is. You'se a nice goyl so I'm gonna be nice and look out for you along wit Jack. How do ya know that Jack don't just see your money? I mean, he's my friend and all but let's be realistic.
Evie clenched her jaw knowing that it was a possibility—that could be one of the many flaws in Jack's character but until she met him, she wouldn't let herself believe it. I doubt that.
Frankie entered the room and threw the bundle of clothes at Spot. Yea well, we'se gonna make sure dat don't happen. Now change into dese. He separated out a pair of trousers, a buttoned shirt and undershirt. Evie handled the clothes idly, looking somewhat unsure. The final decision was the voice inside her head—her father would have spat on the clothes so she would wear them. We'll go ta see Jack tomorrow. I got some business in da city anyways. Instead of presentin ya as Miss high society herself, you'll be Evie from Boston, a distant relative to this hear Frankie. Dis way we can be sure dat Jacky-boy likes ya for you and not that large sum of cash you'se got in your pocket.
Evie shook her head. Spot didn't understand that the only money she had would last only a couple more days. Sure, her family was well off but after her late night ride she'd never be let to step back onto the lawn of her family home. The boys left the room and let her change as she contemplated Spot's plan. How was he so sure that Jack would fall for her even without the knowledge of the connection they shared? It was the first time in her life that Evie had to fully rely on herself. She had to trust her own judgement.
The boys entered when she called to them that she was ready. Getting up from the bed she nodded her head. Okay, you're right. I'm a little nervous that Jack won't give me the time of day if he doesn't know who I am but I'm trusting your judgement. She held Spot's glance, making sure that he understood the serious undertone in her words.
Oh believe me, he'll go crazy over dat pretty little face of yours. He laughed to himself again, looking at her standing there in the baggy clothes. She looked like a regular street kid except for one last touch. Somethin's missin. He looked at Frankie who nodded in agreement.
Evie fidgeted under the boys' stare. The clothes were definitely more comfortable than most of the dresses she squeezed herself into. But what could complete the look? Suddenly she remembered the Boston boy's cap and her gut instinct that had guided her to buy it. She rummaged through her bag and pulled out the hat. How about this? She held out the hat to Spot, who took it and placed it on her head. It was a little big but she stuffed her long hair underneath and it stayed up off her face.
Spot smiled at the drastic change that had taken place before his eyes. Gone was the proper lady and in her place was an average looking newsgirl, hair sticking out from underneath a cap that was too big and too dusty for her delicate facial features.