Chapter XX
THE NEXT DAY began with a shrill arrival whistle as the train pulled into the Chicago station.
Mae's eyes flew open at the sound and instantly squeezed shut to block out the dim dawn light filtering through the window.
Her current situation washed over her, and she could feel the stirring form of Winona coming to.
After last night’s ticket snafu and the following emotional incident, Mae was loath to face the morning with her uninvited roommate.
She quickly found her corset and slid it on under her blouse.
Fumbling to straighten it, she gave up and fastened the buttons, anyway.
The corset pulled at her waist, making it uncomfortable to stay seated on the bed.
She reached for some hairpins and held them between her lips while she quickly twisted her unruly hair into a bun at the crown of her head.
“If yer goin’ to the next car, I’ll come wit ye,” Winona drawled mid-yawn. “I jus need a minute to get meself sorted.”
“I’ll wait in the corridor.” Mae stood, and before exiting the curtain, tugged her corset into place. Looking down the aisle, she saw the porter from the evening before. He still looked tired, but with a night’s rest, he appeared younger.
As Winona appeared, he nodded and said quietly, “Good morning, ladies. The dining car is now open.”
“Will this Pullman be continuing to Topeka, or will we have to disembark?” Mae asked him softly, acknowledging that not all of the passengers might be awake.
“This section of the train will be cut out and switched onto the westbound train for Topeka.”
“And do you know if there are any children from the Foundling aboard who will be transferred as well?” Mae tensed, hoping this question wasn’t too abrupt.
The porter tilted his curiously at the sudden change in topic. “I’m not at liberty to discuss other passengers, ma’am.”
“No worries. I had hoped to meet up with one of my friends who often accompanies them. I thought today was one of her routes…” Mae floundered through the explanation.
His face transformed into a confused and forced professional smile as Winona pulled back the curtain to their berth.
Mae was relieved at the interruption. She thanked the porter as he continued on to the back of the car.
As he reached the end, the gray-haired porter stopped him.
He was conversing with the night porter when she saw the older porter gesture in her direction.
The night porter frowned and his eyebrows knitted as he looked down at his manifest and nodded.
Mae turned quickly and pushed through to the vestibule.
She scanned the day car from the vestibule, and thoughts of the man in the felt hat flooded into her mind. Was he continuing on to Topeka, or would he disembark here in Chicago?
Winona joined her in the vestibule and followed her into the day car.
Mae shivered at the temperature difference between their warm bed and the cold connector as her stomach rumbled aloud.
The reminder of her sole cup of tea last night insisted that she fill the void.
“I’m going to the dining car for breakfast,” Mae informed her companion.
Winona nodded and followed Mae. After being seated, Mae ordered a modest fare of fried eggs, toast, and tea. When the waiter looked to Winona, she smiled demurely and placed a hand over her stomach, feigning a stomachache. “Tea only for me, please.”
The smell of breakfast wafted into Mae's nose, and it was enough to make her belly grumble again. Although the tea came straight away, it felt inconsequential to the bile churning in her gut. After the first sip, she added several sugar cubes to try to lessen the hunger pangs.
After waiting for nearly twenty minutes, Mae's eggs arrived.
The smell was heavenly, and she was sure that these eggs had been laid by a golden hen.
Several mouthfuls in, she glanced up at Winona.
Winona immediately averted her eyes from the food on Mae's plate and took a sip of tea, training her eyes on the people milling about on the platform.
Clearly, Winona was hungry. That act may have worked on the waiter, but Mae knew better.
Once she finished her eggs, Mae picked up one half of the four halves of toast and pushed the plate away.
“Oh, I just can’t eat any more,” she announced.
“I know you aren’t feeling well, but maybe some toast would help?
” She gestured to the toast with her eyes and eyebrows.
Winona smiled at her, picking up the other half of her toast. “Maybe… I’ll give it a go.”
With the olive branch firmly suspended between them, they finished their breakfast and individually paid their bills so they could retire to the observation car while the train began its departure from the station.
The same hostess seated them in the empty seats two-thirds down the car, and an amiable silence fell between them as Mae became lost in her thoughts, staring out at the passing scenery.
Instead of the rolling hills and wooded areas of yesterday, today’s countryside was flat with snow-covered fields stretching to the horizon.
The day was darkening when Winona turned to her and said, “What do ye think the bairns are doin’ right now?”
Mae dragged her eyes from the tranquil landscape to focus on her companion’s creased eyebrow and intense gaze. “Well, I’m not quite sure,” Mae started. “But I hope they are being well-kept on the train.”
“I hope they’re bein’ fed.” Winona worried her full bottom between her teeth.
Mae paused and thought about Simon and how he had been bullied several days before at school. Was he being bullied by anyone on the train? Did the attendants even care? “I just hope they are safe.”
“What if we don’t get to ‘em in time?”
“We will. We have to believe that we will.”
Winona nodded resolutely to herself as if this mollification from Mae somehow solidified the children’s stasis in Topeka.
“I’ve been thinking…” Mae began, unsure if she should share her thoughts. “I’m sure there must be some amount of holding time once the children arrive. I can’t imagine that they will be carted off the train and immediately deposited into a waiting wagon.”
“I heard somethin’ back in New York about a higher-up that decides where the children get placed. Some Mr. Foster.”
Mae’s eye twitched at the name. Her mind worked over the name.
She hadn’t remembered any other cases where this particular special assistant had been mentioned.
The only connection that she had found thus far had been Winona’s case and the two other women, Jones and MacDuffy.
And now Simon. It had to be related, but she couldn’t put her finger on why.
“I can’t imagine that one man can know everything from New York to Kansas. No one has that much control, Winona. Or time for that matter.” As she said it, Mae knew how na?ve it sounded.
Winona paused incredulously. “Ye don’t understand. Men like Foster keep ears everywhere—clerks, porters, messengers. Folks who hear things.”
Continuing her thoughts aloud to Winona, Mae said, “I have an order from the judge in New York which can delay his placement out. If I can get to the judge in Topeka as soon as the train arrives, we may be able to get him to also stay the order of commitment for Lily.”
Winona’s eyes glazed over until Mae mentioned Lily’s name. “Does that mean me Lily will be turned over to me?” The desperation in her eyes tugged at Mae's heartstrings. She knew how precious Simon was to her. She could only assume that’s how Winona felt about Lily.
“Well, hopefully the judge would stay her placement long enough for word to be sent from New York regarding the incomplete paperwork.”
Winona’s brow ruffled again.
“The Kansas judge wouldn’t permit her to be adopted until he had all the paperwork in order from New York,” Mae explained.
Understanding dawned on Winona. “Do ye think…” Winona asked hesitantly, “Can ye talk to the judge like that and make him understand?”
Mae thought about this. She had never had to make an argument.
That was always Henry’s wheelhouse. But she had all the case law.
She had packed her legal notes into her valise with her clothes and the order from Judge Matthews.
“I think so…” Mae shifted her focus back to the dusky, serene snow-covered fields as self-doubt niggled its way into the back of her mind.
Could she? Would she even be allowed to try?
Mae glanced back at Winona, who was suddenly preoccupied with something behind Mae.
She watched Winona’s face darken and her hands clench.
Mae's ears perked up when she realized that Winona was listening intently to the conversation taking place behind her. “Yes, Ma’am?” Mae recognized the hostess’s chipper voice.
“Best tell the porter to prepare my section before the lamps are lowered. They’re particular about the order of things at night. Best follow the schedule, I always say.” The voice was coming from right behind her. Mae knew it must be the older woman and her daughter talking.
“Of course, Ma’am,” the hostess said, “I’ll tell him straightaway.”
Mae heard the hostess walk away. A second later, Winona’s jaw set as she observed something else, which Mae could not see. Winona leaned forward and Mae saw her grip the seat of her chair so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
“Winona?” Mae asked. “Are you okay?”
Winona stood abruptly. Looking down at Mae, her voice came out hard. “I don’t like this. C’mon.”
Mae sat confused as she looked up at Winona’s reddening face.
She wasn’t embarrassed. She was angry. Mae whipped around to see what Winona was looking at, but the aisle was clear and the vestibule door was closed.
Then she saw it. The hostess’s blue top pressed against the glass on the other side of the door.
A hand grasped fruitlessly at the window, but the loud clamor of the train drowned out any sound.