children have been used and abused until they’re afraid to trust adults. They won’t come to the orphanage because they don’t know we won’t ship them back to Chicago to work in a sweatshop sixteen hours a day for a little bit of bread and water.” She paused, her gaze sweeping the crowd.
This might be her chance to open their eyes to the plight of the street children. But doing so might rip her heart from her chest. Still, she didn’t have a choice. She had to try. For the children. “They don’t dare trust anybody because they’ve never been able to trust anyone. Even the police in Chicago—”
“Well, little lady, let’s not be too hasty here.”
Livy blinked as Mr. Gibbons, the owner of the glove factory, stepped forward. She took a deep breath. She’d let the whole town have it with both barrels.
Not that they didn’t deserve it . . .
But how much would she have revealed if Mr. Gibbons hadn’t stopped her when he did?
Mr. Gibbons tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his trousers and smiled at the crowd, his dark hair gleaming in the lamplight. “I’m not sure we have as big a problem as you men think we do. I realize I’m new around these parts, but I’ve seen precious little evidence of street urchins roaming around here.”
One is too many. Livy held her tongue.
“As far as who’s breaking in to our businesses, I imagine it’s one or two rogue youngsters with nothing better to do. Why, it might even be one of our own, not a homeless child at all.”
Angry murmurs rose from the crowd. These people didn’t want the truth. They wanted a scapegoat.
The children.
Mr. Gibbons lifted a placating hand, a smile still on his handsome face. “I know that seems far-fetched, but I just thought I’d mention it. We don’t want to cast all the blame on the street kids if they’re not guilty, you know.”
Sheriff Carter stepped forward. “All right, everyone has offered suggestions, and we still haven’t resolved matters. I don’t suppose we will until we catch the perpetrators. I suggest you men start keeping an eye on your businesses at night.” He looked toward the sisters who owned the millinery shop. “Jake and I will watch your store, ladies, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Ain’t no thief in his right mind gonna break into a hat shop,” someone called out from the back of the room. The men snickered, lightening the tense atmosphere.
Mr. McIver tried to hide his smile. “All right, if that’s all, then this meeting is adjourned. If you see anything, report it to Sheriff Carter or Deputy Russell immediately.”
The meeting broke up, and men started talking all at once. Livy eased to the side to stay out of the way. Mr. Gibbons stepped up to her. “Evening, ma’am.”
“Mr. Gibbons.”
“It’s Miss O’Brien, correct?” he asked, looking down his nose at her.
“Yes, that’s right.” Livy lifted her chin. She wouldn’t be intimidated.
“Your description of the street kids seemed a little overwrought. You can’t believe everything you hear, you know.” Cold eyes raked her, belying the well-meaning tone of his voice.
“Really?” What part of her speech did he think so out of bounds with the reality of the children’s lives? Did he know how they lived? Did he care?
“Yes, ma’am. You’d do better to stay over at the orphanage and take care of the poor little orphans who come your way than to try to get mixed up with these older boys from Chicago. I can assure you, they can take care of themselves.”
Some might say the smile he gave her was charming. But not Livy.
“They can be quite dangerous, and I would hate for a pretty little thing like you to get hurt. Good night, ma’am.” He tipped his hat and disappeared into the crowd.
Livy narrowed her gaze and stared after the man. On one side, he’d tried to convince the townspeople they had nothing to fear while at the same time warning her to stay away from the lads roaming the streets. Had he offered a friendly warning to keep her safe, or threatened her?
All her senses warned of the latter.
“Miss O’Brien.”
Livy turned to find the Huff sisters bearing down on her, Jake following in their wake. Miss Maisie and Miss Janie were dressed snugly in head-to-toe black cloaks and woolen scarves wrapped securely around their ears. In contrast to their all-black attire, Miss Maisie’s dazzling multicolored scarf rivaled Joseph’s coat of many colors.
“Good evening,