Where We Belong: An Orphan Train Novel

"The funds upon which we've relied to keep our doors open have dried up. We could no longer care for the children here. Families all across the nation are struggling. The successful home placing of children of the past decades has all but disappeared. If we were to find good homes for the children, we had to act quickly."

Why hadn't he come sooner? Remorse formed a knot in his throat, but a wave of anger pushed it down. "How could you send my girls away without talking to me first?"

"We tried." The woman lifted her chin. "Six months ago, when it became clear the asylum would be closing, we sent a missive to your last known residence. We sent a second notice three months after that, then a third six weeks ago. We received no response from you."

Callum looked at the floor, too ashamed to meet Miss Armstrong's gaze. When was the last time he'd gotten any piece of mail? Not since he lost the dock job almost three years ago and had to move out of the apartment he'd shared with a couple other fellows. How could he keep a mailbox when he slept in alleys or the stockrooms of stores? He had a little cubby for letters now at the tenement, but what good would it do him?

"We could only presume that something had befallen you and left the girls truly orphaned or that you'd changed your mind about wanting them."

Agony twisted through his gut. How could he make this lady understand? It had nearly killed him to leave after his last visit here. Evvie begged him to take her with him, and little Winnie clung to his leg like a monkey to a tree and sobbed even though she hardly knew him. Even remembering it nearly tore his heart in two. He hadn't wanted to put them through such an ordeal again, so he'd promised Evvie that the next time he came, he'd walk out the door with them. And now it was too late. Unless...

He raised his head so fast his neck popped. "Ma'am, you said the girls went west. On a train?"

"Yes. We put the girls on our very last transport."

"When?"

"It departed February 27."

Exactly three weeks ago. How far could a train get in three weeks? He inched closer to the desk. "Where was it headed?"

"There were planned stops along the railway in several small towns in Illinois, Missouri, and Kansas."

So many states. And all so far away. His mouth went dry. He licked his lips. "Where did my girls get off ?"

Her forehead puckered, and she pressed her fingers to the furrows. "I won't know until the assigned guardians, Miss Harms and Miss Davis, return with the placement paperwork."

Callum tamped back a growl of frustration. "When'll that be?"

"To be perfectly frank, I do not know." She held out her hands in a gesture of defeat. "Evelyn and Edwina went with the last of our children—forty-two in all. In the beginning days of home placing, that many children could be chosen at the very first stop. These days? It might take more stops than children in need of homes to find suitable placements for all of them. However, for the benefit of our guardians, we chose Marion, Kansas, as the last stop for this final trip, and we prayed fervently that each child would be received into a loving home."

She settled in her chair again, like she was too weary to remain upright. "I realize this is a vexing situation for you, Mr. Holbrook, but I assure you the girls were not sent out of malice or indifference. We had only their best interests at heart when they were added to the list of potential adoptees. And what other choice did we have? We didn't know where you were, and the asylum was closing. In fact, the only reason Mildred and I are still here is to ready the property for sale while I await the paperwork that will allow me to complete my responsibilities as the matron of the Mission Church Home."

Callum cringed. He wasn't the only one who was losing something. "I'm sorry about you not having a job or a place to live anymore, ma'am. I truly am. I know what it's like to be let go and not have someplace safe and warm to lay my head. But I've lost something even more dear than a job. My girls are gone, and I've gotta get 'em back." He crossed the remaining distance in two big steps and stopped at the edge of the desk. Pressing his hat against his thrumming chest, he stared into her unsmiling eyes. "Will you please help me get 'em back?"