Promise of Home Read online

  Promise of Home

  Lockets and Lace Book 18

  P. Creeden

  Contents

  Promise of Home

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  A Bride for Henry

  Brokken Rising

  Brokken Pursuit

  Promise of Home © 2019 P. Creeden

  Cover by Carpe Librum Designs

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

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  Acknowledgments

  This book is part of a multi-author series sponsored by the authors who write for the Sweet Americana Sweethearts blog. My appreciation and thanks go to those other authors who helped develop the Lockets & Lace series of books.

  I offer my appreciation to Carpe Librum Book Covers for the cover design for my novel.

  Promise of Home

  A daring young woman with a disability. An orphan train filled with hope. A dream that won’t be denied.

  Julia is a deaf girl raised as an orphan who is working with the Children’s Aid Society to help find homes across the country for orphans from New York. But each time one of the orphans she’s grown close to is adopted, she finds her heart breaking. And the farther the train goes, the farther from home she feels.

  But feelings can be deceiving. And there might just be a home waiting for her at the end of the journey she didn’t expect.

  Chapter One

  April 1854

  Julia had never felt at home anywhere. When she was dropped off on the front steps of the Dutch Church in Brooklyn at the age of three and a half, she was old enough to remember the frustrated woman who had been her mother. Though she couldn’t recall her face outside of the picture in her locket, she remembered the woman’s long corn silk hair—hair that Julia had inherited. She pushed aside some of the annoying strands of corn silk that fluttered around her head in the spring breeze and tucked them behind her ears. It seemed that no matter what she did, she couldn’t tame the stray hairs and make them stay in her braid. With a sigh, she gripped the handles of her traveling bag and stepped up to the back doorway of the church where they housed a children’s home. It was one of the few bastions of hope for the destitute children of immigrants who were abandoned in the city.

  While some fell into prostitution, gangs, and living on the street, as many as the church was able to take in, they did. Typically, the ones who stayed were those who were the most vulnerable, just like Julia had been. When she was twelve, a couple from the School of the Deaf in Connecticut had come to Brooklyn to visit family, they had also found Julia, making the most of her life in the children’s home where she lived in a world of silence, barely able to communicate with others except for where the minister’s wife had shown her kindness and taught her to read and write. But day to day fellowship with others had been difficult to accomplish growing up in the children’s home.

  For the last five years, Julia had been staying at the boarding school, sponsored by Mr. and Mrs. Milne in Connecticut, learning and then teaching others the new form of sign language developed there, which helped open up a new world for the deaf and the children of deaf parents. Not for the first time, Julia wondered if her mother had better understood Julia’s hindrance and if she had learned how to communicate through the means taught at the school, would Julia have been abandoned on the porch step of the church and left to fend for herself as an orphan with nothing more than a locket and a lace handkerchief to remember her mother by?

  She let out a slow sigh. There was no purpose in dwelling on what could have been. What has happened has happened, and what was gone was gone. And right now, she needed to concentrate on the task at hand.

  Mrs. Jansen, the minister’s wife, greeted her with a wide smile as soon as Julia entered the kitchen. The portly woman’s mousy brown hair had become more gray than brown over the last five years while Julia had been away, but seeing her smile warmed Julia’s heart. She read Mrs. Jansen’s lips wanting to sign a response, but instead did something she’d not done in her first twelve years of life—she spoke. “It’s lovely to see you, too, Mrs. Jansen.”

  Mrs. Jansen’s eyes went wide, and she laughed before saying, “Bless me, I never thought I’d hear a word coming from your lips. God’s favor is truly upon us. You speak like an angel.”

  Julia smiled. She’d learned how to force words from her mute lips while at the school. She felt the vibrations in her throat, though she couldn’t hear them. She knew her voice didn’t quite sound perfect, but she’d worked hard to learn how to speak so she could commune not with just those who understood the signs, but also common people. “Thank you.”

  The woman pulled Julia into a hug, tears filling her blue eyes. Mrs. Jansen’s chest vibrated against Julia’s. She had said something Julia couldn’t hear, but she could feel the vibrations against her chest. Mrs. Jansen used to do this quite often before, when Julia had lived in the home, but Julia hadn’t quite understood what it meant. Hopefully the elder woman understood that just because she’d learned to read lips and speak in some fashion, she still couldn’t hear her.

  Finally, Mrs. Jansen pulled away, swiping the tears that spilled over her cheeks. “It’s just so good to see you. You look healthy and well. That’s a blessing and more than I could have asked for.”

  Julia nodded. “I got your letters.”

  The wide smile Mrs. Jansen had for a moment slipped just a bit, and her lips became thin. “Savannah. She’s quite a handful. You and she couldn’t be more different. Where you were quieter than a church mouse and introspective, Savannah spends much of her time voicing her frustrations in the form of screaming. She’s impossible to communicate with and shows no interest in learning to read and write.”

  “And she’s deaf, like me?”

  Mrs. Jansen nodded slowly.

  Her letters had said as much. Mrs. Jansen couldn’t afford to send Savannah to Connecticut to the School for the Deaf, nor could she ask for Mr. and Mrs. Milne to take on another ward like they had taken on Julia. It would have been too much. Though Julia had worked with some tough cases at the school—deaf children who showed their frustration with being unable to communicate their needs and feelings through violence—she’d had the Milne family’s help. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as Mrs. Jansen’s gaze shut toward the upstairs.

  With a finger pointing toward the kitchen’s ceiling, Mrs. Jansen said, “That would be her, now.”

  Julia nodded. “Take me to her.”

  Mrs. Jansen’s tight-lipped smile continued as she turned about and headed toward the back of the
kitchen and to a narrow wooden staircase. The familiar yet musty scent of old books and lemon wood polish assailed Julia’s nose. She’d forgotten this smell. The Jansens opened the home to about five or six orphaned children at a time. Some of the children had incapacitations, like she had, though few were deaf or blind. Many left their care early on to earn a living for themselves in factories and on the wharf. Some children would run away, presumably to look for their parents. The few who stayed were fed and clothed well by the parishioners of the church and cared for by the Jansen family in their home behind the rectory of the church.

  When they reached the top of the stairs, they found four children standing in the hallway in their night clothes, staring into what Julia remembered as the play room. One of the children ducked out of the way as a wooden toy train whizzed past her head and smashed against the wall opposite the doorway, leaving a dark smudge on the white paint. The children’s eyes were filled with sadness and confusion as they all turned their gazes toward Mrs. Jansen and Julia. Julia offered the children a friendly smile and eyed them all with nods as Mrs. Jensen introduced them.

  Alice, with beautiful sparkling blue eyes and dark hair, pale complexion and a cleft lip, looked to be only about six or seven years old. Mary, with fiery red hair and hazel green eyes looked at her with suspicion. She seemed the oldest of the two girls, probably closer to thirteen, with more freckles covering her face than clear white skin peering through. One of the boys, William, appeared to have dwarfism, but his smile shone like the sun as he looked up at her. The other boy, George, a Chinese, backed away from her and hid behind Mary’s skirts when Julia approached. He couldn’t have been more than five and barely looked at Julia.

  Then Mrs. Jensen gestured toward the play room. “And Savannah is just inside.”

  Julia peered into the room and found a six or seven-year-old child on the floor, her nightgown hiked half way up her thighs, her hands in her matted hair as she pulled at it and stared at the ceiling above her. Tear tracks streamed down her face. Then her brown eyes met Julia’s and widened. She backed away quickly, picking up the nearest wooden block and throwing it at Julia. The wooden block bounced off the thick skirt of Julia’s traveling dress.

  A hand rested on Julia’s arm, and Mrs. Jensen’s worry-filled eyes met hers. “She’s weary of strangers. It may take her a moment more to calm down.”

  Julia rested her hand atop Mrs. Jensen’s and set her carpet bag on the floor beside her feet. “I’ll be okay.”

  Then she took a deep breath and focused on the young, wild girl who sat in the corner, terrified eyes fixed upon Julia. Julia took three steps forward and then knelt down, reveling in the weight of silence for a moment, ignoring the presence of those behind her. She offered Savannah a soft smile, but the child frowned, narrowed her eyes at Julia and then threw another wooden block.

  Even though Julia didn’t often understand the rules when it came to sports, she liked to play them. And the Milne family loved a new game they had learned during their stay in Brooklyn when they met her—baseball. Julia reached out and caught the block in her hand, ignoring the sting on her palm and fingers. The child’s eyes went wide and her mouth formed an “O.” Keeping her smile on her face, Julia set down the wooden block on the floor and tilted her head toward Savannah.

  The child studied her with curiosity more than suspicion now. Progress. Julia edged just a bit closer to the corner Savannah had backed herself into and the sat on the floor, straightening her skirts around her legs. For a long moment, the two of them sat quietly. When the sun outside had set, it leeched out the last of the natural light that had come in through the window when she’d first arrived. Though she didn’t look, Julia saw Mrs. Jensen set a lantern on the nearby table from the corner of her eye.

  Julia’s stomach growled. She hadn’t had dinner since getting off the train from Hartford, but she ignored the annoyance. She ignored everything except the silence and the child whose tension slowly slipped away as she sat in the corner. Savannah’s eyes half closed, and her head nodded once before she ripped it upward and opened her eyes wide. Julia offered her another smile and finally, reached a hand out toward her.

  Savannah lifted a brow and looked at her hand for a long moment, a frown returning to her face.

  Together, they had been sitting there for the better part of two hours. In silence. In patience. In stubbornness. And Julia had her arm outstretched and the small smile on her face for long enough that her arm grew tired and her elbow began to hurt from the weight of her own hand. Savannah didn’t nod off again. Instead she continued to stare at Julia incredulously. Then, finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Savannah leaned forward and crawled to Julia. She bypassed Julia’s outstretched hand and crawled directly into Julia’s lap.

  Julia stayed utterly still, her hand still outstretched while the child’s knees dug into her numbed calves. Though pain shot through her body. Julia ignored it, fighting to keep a smile on her face though she wanted to wince. Then Savannah’s fingers gently touched the locket on Julia’s neck. She fingered the oval and lifted the pendant. Julia remained still, her breath becoming bated as Savannah gripped the locket in her palm, and the chain bit into the back of Julia’s neck a moment just before the chain broke when Savannah yanked on the locket.

  Chapter Two

  Julia clenched her jaw and schooled her expression as Savannah scrambled backwards, retreating to her corner once more. The floorboards vibrated as someone rushed forward. Savannah’s worried eyes shot the direction of the newcomer. Julia whipped out an arm and caught Mrs. Jansen by the skirt just as she was about to dash past. She looked up at the elder woman and shook her head. “It’s all right.”

  Mrs. Jansen frowned, her brows creasing as she searched Julia’s eyes. Then she slowly nodded and backed away again.

  This was a test. Julia doubted Savannah actually wanted the locket as much as she wanted to test Julia’s reaction to being stripped of it. Inside her chest, Julia’s heart ached at being parted from one of the only small connections she still had with the woman she could barely remember as her mother. Savannah fingered the engravings on the top of the oval and then pushed the clasp, allowing the locket to pop open. Inside, the daguerreotype image had spots around the edges, aging, it seemed, each time Julia opened the locket and exposed it to air. She let out a long slow breath, relieving the tension formed in her shoulders. Savannah was more important than an old photograph of the mother who abandoned Julia. She kept reminding herself of that fact and telling herself it didn’t matter if the photo was destroyed... even if it was irreplaceable.

  Savannah eyed Julia over the locket for a reaction and narrowed her eyes. Julia maintained her soft expression. She wouldn’t let Savannah gain a reaction out of her. Somewhere along the way, Savannah had decided that getting a negative reaction out of people was better than getting no reaction at all. Somewhere along the way, Savannah had decided that getting praise and kindness from people was too hard to strive for, impossible, even. So, she gave up. She stopped trying. It was Julia’s job to get her to start trying again.

  After a moment, Savannah set the locket on the floorboard beside her and then crawled toward Julia again. This time, she knelt directly in front of Julia and reached a tentative hand toward Julia’s hair. Julia leaned in, toward the child’s touch. Savannah’s eyes widened as she gently touched the golden braid around Julia’s head. The child found the end of the braid and worked the tie out of it, letting the braid fall free from its bonds to cascade around Julia’s head and shoulders, making a curtain of corn silk Julia could barely see through.

  Then Savannah’s body vibrated Julia’s lap in a giggle. She pushed the hair from Julia’s eyes and opened them like a curtain. Her brown eyes sparkled as she looked Julia full in the face, and Julia returned the child’s smile with a grin of her own. She’d passed Savannah’s first test.

  Over the course of the next few days, Savannah had several tests for her, but none of them came as a surprise t
o Julia. She’d seen children come in as tortured and hurt as young Savannah at the School for the Deaf. The teachers at the school had shown Julia how to handle those children by example. The frustration each child showed originated from the inability to connect with the world around them. The feeling of being an outsider led the children into a vicious and violent cycle because nothing they could do would change the environment around them.

  But through the slow process of earning Savannah’s trust, Julia began to work in short lessons of how to sign for things that the child wanted. Simple things like foods and toys and things Savannah loved and wanted. Each time the child learned the sign for a specific word, Julia showered her with praise, smiles, hugs, and pats on the head. In less than a week, Savannah had begun to blossom.

  Then things really fell into place on Sunday morning when her door cracked open slowly just as Julia was about to reach for the doorknob. Mary stood in the doorway of Julia’s bedroom, her hands behind her back, and a stern frown on her face. For a long moment, the two of them just stared at each other. Finally, the girl spoke, and Julia read her lips. “Can you teach me, too? I want to learn to talk to Savannah.”

  “Of course.” Nothing could have made Julia happier.

  Mary’s face softened, and she nodded with determination. Then Julia followed the child down the stairs and into the kitchen. Growing up, Julia always took meals in the kitchen at a long table made of the same hard wood as a butcher’s block. Now the five children sat on the benches eating the oatmeal with a dash of cinnamon and milk the Jansens provided each morning. The scents in the kitchen reminded Julia of her childhood. It warmed her heart. It was the closest thing to a feeling of home she’d ever had. She didn’t realize how much she’d missed this place. Though living here had been a source of frustration and heartache, it had also been a place of love and peace. She still wouldn’t consider herself completely welcome to stay, and the Jansens didn’t quite treat them as true family. The home had always lacked stability when she lived here before. Though the Jansens had never sent a child away, that Julia knew about, she always feared that they’d get frustrated and abandon her, just as her mother had.