And though they'll be a-sobbin' for a while,
we're gonna make them sobbin' women smile.
Hannah paused from her work of beating dust out of the rugs and peered down the dirt road that led from her family's homestead into town. Hannah peered down that road as far as she could see every day, but today, again, she was disappointed. "Ma," she asked, turning to Millie, "when will Uncle Giddy and Aunt Alice come home from town?"
Millie pulled an extra clothespin from her apron and straightened the rug hanging over the clothes-line. "You remember what they said, Hannah," she answered, forcing her voice to be cheerful. "They'll be home in time for your birthday. I want you to mind cleanin' these rugs, now. We still got lots more work to do." Hannah nodded, picked up her broom handle, and went back to her work.
May had arrived on the Pontipee farm, and everyone was busy with spring cleaning. It was so nice to finally be able to go outside again, with birds singing and flowers blooming, that nobody complained about all the work. But this year, springtime didn't carry quite the same cheer, for Gideon and Alice weren't there to share it. They had packed up and left for town, several days before, for an extended stay with Alice's parents. They had promised to be back before Hannah's birthday, but that wasn't until the end of the month.
On May 28, Hannah would be ten years old. So many things had changed in the decade since she had been born and her aunts and uncles had all gotten married. The Pontipee farm now had more crops, more livestock, more cabins, and more children. The family had grown so much that Adam joked that their homestead would soon be as big as the town. Hannah had more cousins than she could count, but her favorite aunt and uncle, Alice and Gideon, were still childless. Ephraim and Liza had moved into their own cabin after their first baby Noah was born, but Alice and Gideon still living in the main house with Adam, Millie, and their children, and it felt lonely without them.
Millie acted cheerful as she went about her spring cleaning chores that day, but an uneasiness was growing in her heart that Gideon and Alice would leave the homestead and move to town permanently. She knew how painful it was for Alice to see her sisters-in-law delivering baby after baby, as if it were as easy as chopping wood. When Martha gave birth to twins two years ago, Hannah had said said to her, very cheerfully, as if she were being quite helpful, "And Aunt Martha, if you don't want two babies at once, you can give one to Aunt Alice." Since she'd married Gideon, poor Alice had had two miscarriages, a stillbirth, and one tiny, doomed baby boy who'd lived for only a few hours and was now buried on the hill overlooking the farm, beside the brothers' parents.
Just a few weeks ago, when Sarah announced that she was pregnant again – Frank and Sarah were on their way to having seven children themselves – Alice had smiled, hugged her, and congratulated her. But Gideon had told Millie that later that same night, he'd found Alice on the hill beside their baby's grave, sobbing. The thought made Millie so heartsick that she'd almost started sobbing herself. It wasn't long after that Gideon and Alice had left for town. It seemed a cruel joke that the farm was blossoming into another beautiful springtime, when in Alice's heart, it was still the dead of winter.
Millie could tell that Adam was worried too, even though he didn't say so. When he came in from plowing the fields to eat lunch, he peered down the road, just as Hannah had done, and asked, "Say, any sign of Giddy and Alice come home yet?"
The next morning, Adam and Millie left Hannah and her little brother Adlai with Benjamin and Dorcas and drove their wagon into town. Hannah begged to come along, but her parents told her no, she had to stay home. They didn't tell her that they didn't want her to come along in case they got the awful news that Gideon and Alice had decided to leave the farm to move into town. Even though they tried to act casual, Millie suspected that Hannah had an inkling of fear, too. She was so sharp that it was hard to put anything past her.
"They might've already bought a house there and everythin'," Millie fretted, as the horses trotted through the little mountain stream on the way into town.
"Or they might already be packin' up to come back home to the farm," Adam argued, but secretly, he was worried, too. He hated the thought of his youngest brother moving away to town, even though the Pontipees had long since shed rid their bad reputation and were now as well-liked as any other family.
It was a Sunday morning, and Adam and Millie arrived at the Elcotts' house right after church... but Gideon and Alice weren't there. "They left the day before yesterday, for Eugene," the reverend told them.
"Eugene?" Adam repeated, confused. He'd heard of Eugene – it was a bigger town, out even further west in Oregon Territory, on a fork in the Willamette River. It was a full day's journey from their town, and neither he nor his brothers had ever traveled so far. "What in tarnation did they go to Eugene for?"
"Well..." the reverend stroked his chin, as if debating whether to share this with them. "We heard 'bout an orphan train that's comin' to the railroad depot there."
"An orphan train?" Adam repeated.
"Oh, I've heard of those," Millie said. "They come out here loaded with orphans from back east, for farm families who need help."
"Ain't it the saddest thing you can imagine?" Mrs. Elcott asked, pressing on hand over her bosom. "Boys and girls bein' given away to strangers like stray animals?"
"You mean... Gideon and Alice are takin' in a child from the orphan train?" Adam asked slowly.
"Well, now, I don't know. They're thinkin' 'bout it, sure, but I don't know they mean to do it just now. Alice said she wanted to go to see the children. Eugene's the last stop on the line, and she worried there might be no children left on the train."
"They said they'd be back by Sunday," Mrs. Elcott said. "Why don't you two stay in town, and they can tell us all 'bout it when they get back."
That Sunday was a long day. Millie passed the afternoon by visiting with her old friends in town – they still talked about her cooking in the boarding-house where she used to work – but Adam felt as impatient as Hannah, constantly peering down the main road of town, looking out for any sign of Gideon and Alice. He was outside on the Elcotts' front stoop, smoking his tobacco pipe, when he finally saw Gideon and Alice approaching in their wagon late that evening. He called to Millie, who hurried outside. When she saw them, she gasped, squeezed her husband's arm, and whispered, "Oh, Adam, look, they done it."
But Adam frowned. "Done what?" he asked, confused.
There was no little boy or girl sitting on the wagon seat with Gideon and Alice. They were alone – but the look on their faces left no doubt in Millie's mind. They were both beaming; Alice looked happier than she had in a very long time. When they stopped in front of the Elcotts' house, Gideon climbed down into the back of the wagon and bent over... and when he stood up, he was holding a little girl, all wrapped up in blankets and fast asleep.
"Well... I'll be," Adam murmured.
Millie hugged Alice tightly. "Oh, Alice, congratulations," she whispered. "I'm so happy for you."
Alice's smile shone brighter than the sun. "Her name is Helen," she whispered, smiling down at the little waif in Gideon's arms, "and she's all ours."
I know that Gideon and Alice didn't show up until the very end of their chapter... but don't worry, that's why they're getting two. :)