Whistle-Stop West by Arleta Richardson

Caleb still resented being pushed into his father’s choice. Electra was right. It wasn’t easy to grow up. He was still being pushed, Caleb admitted. The list his wife had read was folded in his pocket, but he didn’t need to look at it to know who was included.
    John Muller shouldn’t have been approved for a child, but Caleb felt he had no choice. His position as mayor depended upon John’s goodwill. If Caleb had turned the man down because of the harsh treatment he gave his own family, there would soon be another mayor.
    Ernest Rubeck wanted another farmhand and would probably not send the boy to school as required, but he held the note on Caleb’s house. The Sinclairs were too old to raise a child, but they were fellow church members. How could he explain cutting them from the list?
    Caleb stopped and wiped his brow with a big handkerchief. What his neighbors did wasn’t his responsibility, he reasoned. At any rate, the train had stopped, and Agent Glover was coming toward him. Caleb pushed away his weary thoughts and met Mr. Glover with a big smile and a hearty handshake.

Chapter Eight
Little Ruby Finds a Home
    Ethan watched the boys and girls line up across the platform of the church. Matron had told everyone to smile at the people when they came in, but even Louis, who was the most cheerful boy Ethan knew, wore a terrible scowl.
    â€œI guess I wouldn’t feel like smiling if I was up there,” Ethan said to Matron. “I’m glad I’m sitting down here by you.”
    Matron patted his knee. “They’re frightened right now, I’m sure. It will be better when the folks begin to talk to them.”
    From the other side of Matron, Alice leaned around to speak to her brother. “I’m going to miss Betsy something awful. Are you going to miss Bert?”
    Ethan didn’t look at Alice. “Yeah. But maybe no one will take them today.”

    Matron Daly’s heart ached for the children as she listened to them sing and recite for the strangers. She hugged Will, who sat on her lap, and glanced at Simon. He had chosen to sit on the end of the front pew to watch the activity with wide-open eyes. He’d begged to sing with the others, but they couldn’t run the risk of someone choosing him and being disappointed because he wasn’t available.
    Matron and Charles Glover had talked about how difficult this time would be.
    â€œI worry about the ones like Arthur,” Matron said. “How will a boy who hasn’t spent a day in school feel about being confined in a building? He’ll be laughed at and teased because he can’t read or write. Will he be able to live like that?”
    â€œIt is hard,” Charles had agreed. “I trust each one of these children to the Lord as I let them go. I’ve found that most of the older boys do very well when they find that someone is willing to teach them a trade and treat them as a family member. We have to remember, Matron, that these children are survivors. If they couldn’t make it almost anywhere, they wouldn’t be here today.”
    Now the program was over, and the people started to discuss the children.
    â€œMercy! I hope those children can do other things better than they sing!” This comment came from a woman named Cora Tyler.
    Her daughter, Nita, yawned. “I’m sure you don’t have to carry a tune to be able to scrub a floor. Just look for a strong girl who seems to be halfway intelligent.”
    â€œThat tall girl on the end might be all right,” Mrs. Tyler decided.
    â€œThat’s Shala,” Ethan whispered to Matron. “That lady won’t want her!”
    Matron Daly nodded and smiled to herself. Ethan was right. This woman might get more intelligence than she could deal with if she took Shala. The girl wouldn’t be a slave for anyone.
    The good people of Liberty started to walk past the rows of children, ready to select new members