Chapter 13 #2
She quickly secured the lead lines. Then, holding her breath, Zaira crept as quietly as possible toward the dogwood.
She strained to hear anything more. But she couldn’t distinguish any sounds past the unique chik-ewww.f the Mississippi kite with its slender gray body soaring nearby above the grassland, hunting the grasshoppers buzzing loudly in the heat of the day.
As she reached the dogwood, she didn’t hesitate. She pushed aside the low branches and was rewarded by the sight of two little faces, the sunshine bathing them and making them squint.
“Seamus and Moya.” Relief filled her. “I’ve been worried sick about the two of you all day.”
Seamus was holding a hand over Moya’s mouth. She said something, but his hand muffled the sound.
“We don’t need your help,” Seamus stated in a huff.
In the daylight, Zaira could see that both of them had brown hair—or perhaps their hair was brown because of the filth. Their faces were thin and smudged with dirt, making the blue-gray of their eyes all the brighter. Lines streaked through the dirt on Moya’s cheeks, probably from tears.
“It’s me, Zaira, from last night.” She held up both hands so they could see they had nothing to worry about. “Bellamy and I have been searching for you.”
Moya broke free of Seamus’s hold, and she scrambled forward before he could grab her back. In the next instant, she was flinging herself upon Zaira. The lass wrapped her arms around Zaira’s skirt and buried her face in the folds of satiny material.
“You’re just fine,” Zaira crooned. “Everything will be all right.”
“I want my mama.” Moya’s heartbroken cry was garbled in Zaira’s skirt, but it was still clear enough.
Seamus slid out of the brush and tugged on his sister. “Come with you now, Moya.”
She resisted her brother and clung to Zaira more tightly.
“Why won’t you let us help you, Seamus?”
The lad glared up at her. “You helped us last night, and now we’re moving on.”
“We can give you a place to stay until we locate your da.”
“We’ll not be going to an orphanage.”
“What if I told you that you don’t have to go to an orphanage?” Zaira stroked Moya’s head. “What if I told you that you could stay at my house with me?”
“I’ll go.” Moya raised her face and peered up at Zaira eagerly.
Seamus shook his head. “That’s what the last man told us, but then he took us right to the orphanage.”
Bellamy had been right. Seamus was afraid of being captured and placed in another orphanage.
How was it that Bellamy was able to read situations and people so well?
The quality certainly could help him be a good matchmaker.
But it also meant that he would be able to read her well too.
Perhaps enough to see past her playacting to how she really felt.
She would have to be extra careful around him.
“I wanna go to your house.” Moya dug her fingers into Zaira’s skirt. “Please.”
Her da had indicated they would be leaving the city tomorrow morn to return to Oakland.
Even though she’d pleaded with him to stay longer—and had made it seem like she wanted to be near Bellamy—Da and Kiernan had both been adamant about getting away from the cholera and back to the fresh air of the country.
In fact, neither Da nor Kiernan knew she’d left the house for the afternoon to search with Bellamy. They thought she was resting in her room during the heat of the day.
How would she ever explain the presence of the children without having to reveal her sneaking around? Who would care for them when she was at Oakland? Would there be a way to bring them with her to the country?
She sighed. She could hardly get Seamus to come with her to Bellamy’s shed, much less leave the city. The child was determined to find his father and wouldn’t be satisfied until they were reunited.
She didn’t blame him. She could only imagine how overwhelming and frightening this new land was. It was probably vastly different from Ireland, so locating his father was his lone hope of having anything familiar or stable.
“See?” Seamus’s tone was tinged with accusation. “You can’t really take care of us.”
“No, that’s not it.” Except he was right. She didn’t know what she would be able to do for the two. But maybe Bellamy would have an idea. Could they stay with his family? She glanced over her shoulder, hoping he’d come sooner rather than later, before Seamus could take Moya and run away again.
The grassy trail was empty, with no sign of him.
Could she defy her da and stay in town with the children? She’d never disobeyed him openly before. Instead, she’d always at least made a show of being submissive while secretly doing what she needed to.
How could she stand up to him now? Not when he just wanted her to stay safe in the same way she wanted Seamus and Moya to stay safe.
No, the best option was to find a way to take care of the children without him knowing.
“Listen, Seamus.” She crouched down so she was eye level with both. “I’m leaving the city tomorrow. But what if I try to find a nice family you can stay with? Someone who knows you’re only there temporarily until you can be reunited with your father?”
Seamus seemed to ponder the matter, then he shook his head in protest.
“You need to do what’s best for Moya.” Zaira brushed the little girl’s tangled hair back to reveal her pitiful, dirty, but expectant face. “Do you think all this running around and hiding is good for her? That your parents would want you to do this?”
“They would want me to take care of her.”
“This isn’t taking care of her.” Zaira leveled a stern look at the boy. “Moya is tired and hungry and dirty. And you’re constantly exposing her to cholera.”
Seamus opened his mouth to respond but just as quickly closed it as remorse flashed in his eyes.
Zaira was being hard on the boy, but since he cared about his sister, she prayed the remorse would prod him to finally accept help.
“You might be able to survive out here.” Even that was questionable.
“But you can’t expect Moya to last much longer.
You need to give her a secure home for now. And I’ll help you find one.”
If Bellamy’s family couldn’t take in these children, surely with all his connections, he would be able to locate someone who was kind and compassionate and willing to help.
Moya leaned into Zaira again, this time laying her head against Zaira’s shoulder. “I wanna go home.”
Seamus was watching his sister, his eyes too sad and too mature for a boy of six. After several long seconds, he nodded. “Okay.”
Zaira released an inner sigh.
“But if you try to separate us,” Seamus interjected, “we’ll leave again, and you’ll never find us.”
Had someone at the orphanage threatened to separate him from Moya? Was that why he was so afraid? “I promise you and Moya will get to stay together.” Zaira wasn’t sure how she’d keep that promise, but she intended to do so one way or another.