For a moment afterward she stood hunched there, clammy with perspiration, mind whirling.Now what?She could walk to the poor house on the London Road, but she didn’t think that place took in such young inmates. The workhouse in Bristol had a nursery, she believed. Would she have to accept a ride home with Fred, confess all to her father, and beg him to help her? She would if she had to, to save her son. Though she doubted her father would come to their aid. How mortified he would be to do so.
Oh, Danny, where are you? Who has you?
How confused he must be, how abandoned he must feel.Oh God, is this my punishment? Forgive me! I deserve it, but Danny does not. He is innocent; please preserve him. Please help me find him.Hannah’s lungs burned and shrank until she could hardly breathe. Silent shudders racked her body.
She heard something then.... Sobbing. For a moment she thought her own grief had burst forth. But no—it was coming from somewhere farther down the alley. Another mother who had discovered her child gone? How many women were crying at that moment?
Hannah looked down the dim alley and saw a slight figure with dark, curly hair sitting huddled in a doorway, head bent, hugging her knees.
A flicker of recognition penetrated Hannah’s grief. Tentatively, she called, “Becky?”
The trembling figure looked up, her face pale in the shadows. Becky’s eyes widened. Her shaking stilled.
Hannah walked toward the girl, a tendril of hope rising in her battered heart. Perhaps Becky would know where Danny was.
“Becky, I’ve just come from Mrs. Beech’s. Where is Danny—do you know?”
The girl’s mouth parted, but she said nothing. Hannah took a few steps nearer and saw the girl hugged not only her slender self, but also a swaddled bundle.
Hope tangled with revulsion. Had the girl reverted to carrying around a swaddled doll to deal with the loss that sometimes unhinged her grip on reality?
“Becky...?” she prompted.
The girl rose to her feet. “Miss Hannah, I ... I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” she faltered. “Mrs. Beech told me you wouldn’t come back.”
“I said I would return and here I am.” Hannah pointed at her splinted arm. “I was injured in a carriage accident, or I might have come sooner.”
But Becky didn’t seem to notice her arm. “He’s my favorite, you know,” she said, staring vacantly ahead. “Mrs. Beech said I weren’t fit to take care of a child and that’s why God took mine away. Said the workhouse would be far better for ’im.”
Hannah’s raw stomach twisted again. “She took Danny to the workhouse? Which one?”
“Planned to. But I took ’im afore she could. Played up like I was gonna work for that Mr. Simpkins and they let me back in.”
The bundle in her arms whined and Hannah’s pulse leapt.Danny?Hannah hesitated. How should she handle this—couldshe pry the child from the girl’s arms without injuring either of them?
She forced a smile. “Becky, have you rescued Danny for me? Is that what you’ve done?”
The girl stared at her.
“Oh, Becky!” she enthused. “Mrs. Beech was wrong—see how good you are with children! Why, you have saved Danny.”
She held out her arms to embrace Becky, heedless of her tender limb. Becky stiffened. Hannah gingerly wrapped her arms around the girl, Danny between them. At least she prayed it was Danny. She had yet to get a good look at him.
“Dear, dear Becky. How will I ever thank you? When I returned to Mrs. Beech’s and found all the children gone, I thought my heart would tear in two. You remember how that feels, I know, poor dear. Having lost your own little girl.”
“My little girl,” Becky repeated.
“Yes. Gone to heaven. Safe with God. And now you have saved my son. My Danny. How grateful I am.”
Becky looked down at the child, now squirming in her arms.
Hannah’s heart surged to glimpse the dear face. “Oh, Danny! How glad I am to see you again. What good care Becky has taken of you. Let me see how big you are.” She placed tentative hands on each side of the little body, clamped tightly to Becky’s midriff.
For a moment the thin arms remained locked.
“He must be growing heavy, Becky. I’ll give you a rest, shall I?” Again she forced a smile and inserted her fingers between the child and the slender girl.
Finally, Becky yielded and Danny was in her arms at last. Ignoring the pain, Hannah held the boy awkwardly in the crook of her splinted arm and turned him toward her, hungry for a good look at him. His face, pinched in discomfort, his nearly bald head, and blotchy cheeks were a masterpiece of beauty to her. It was all she could do not to crumple to the ground in relief.Thank you, God, thank you, God, thank you, God.She molded his small warm body to hers, patting his back, instinctively beginning to sway in the ancient dance of comfort.Thank you!
