nervous, Livy?”
“No.” She forced her voice to remain calm despite the pounding of her heart.
“Liar.”
Her gaze collided with his, filled with an amused glint.
He was teasing, flirting. Still, she didn’t want to be teased. The thought frightened her. She looked away and took a sip of her coffee, her heart fluttering like a caged bird against her rib cage.
Keep it light. Don’t let him know what his green eyes and crooked smile do to you.
“You shouldn’t say that. It’s not polite to call someone a liar. Didn’t your mother ever tell you that?”
He laughed. “Yeah. All the time. Oh, I meant to tell you that my little brother met one of the boys from the orphanage at school. They’re best friends already.”
“Really. Who?”
“Georgie. My brother’s name is Tommy. They’re about the same age.”
Livy pounced on the topic of his family, relieved to have something safe to talk about. “How many brothers and sisters do you have?”
“Four. One older sister who’s married, two younger sisters, and a brother. They’re a real handful for my mother since Pa died.”
“I heard Miss Maisie mention he’d died. I’m sure it’s been hard on all of you.” She kept her tone neutral even though she was dying to know everything about Jake Russell.
One corner of his lips turned up in a sad smile. “We’ll be all right. We’re making it fine—all of us except Ma, that is. She took his death hard, and now she worries about me. She worries about all of us, actually.”
“That’s what mothers do.”
At least that’s what she supposed a mother would do. The closest thing she’d ever had to a mother had been Katie—and now Mrs. Brooks. She couldn’t even remember her mother and father. Her earliest memories were of the streets.
And Katie.
“Livy?”
She started and looked at Jake.
“You all right?”
She smiled. “Yes. I’m sorry. Just thinking.”
Jake’s gaze lingered on her face a moment before he looked away. “Well, I’d better go. I need to make some rounds and check on things.”
“Be careful.” Why did his leaving do strange things to her?
“I will. Good night, Livy.” He jammed his hat on his head and tugged on his gloves. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“You’re welcome.”
He moved to the door, his boots loud on the hardwood floor.
She fingered the scarf around her neck. “Jake?”
He turned.
“It’s really cold out there.” Livy removed the muffler, glad it wasn’t as colorful as Miss Maisie’s. She held it out to him. “Take this.”
* * *
“Hurry up. Get them out and inside before someone comes along.”
Luke watched as Butch pried the lid off the crate. The boss’s horse pranced in the snow.
Butch lifted out two girls and a boy about Mark’s size. One of the girls held a smaller kid on her hip. They looked half-starved and didn’t have coats. The boy was barefoot. They stared at Butch without making a sound.
“Get rid of that one.” The boss jabbed a finger toward the toddler.
The girl’s eyes widened, and she tightened her frail grip on the child in her arms. “No. Please.” She shook her head and backed away, holding the child tight against her.
“Boss, maybe it could wait until morning?” Butch eyed the kid and rubbed his hands across his chest.
“See to it, Butch. Now. And keep the rest of them out of sight and quiet. The town’s all riled up as it is. The sheriff and that deputy of his are sniffing around all over the place.”
“Yes, sir.”
The boss reined his horse around and rode away. The swish, swish, swish of the horse’s hooves through the snow faded, and the girl’s harsh breathing was all that remained.
Butch plucked the child from the girl’s arms and held her under one arm like a sack of potatoes. Silent tears ran down the older girl’s cheeks. “Please, mister. Don’t take my sister. She won’t be any trouble—I promise.”
“Shut up, kid. I got my orders, see?”
Luke’s heart ached for her, but there was nothing he could do.
Grady herded the three children through the door into the factory, dragging the girl who’d given up her sister. Luke caught a final glimpse of her face, white as death. He swallowed the helplessness that rose in his throat. He knew the feeling of being separated from his only kin, of not knowing if Mark was dead or alive.
Grady left the door open.
A surge of hope coursed through Luke. He glanced toward Butch, but the hulking man’s attention stayed focused on the toddler he carried. He lumbered off, a scowl on his face.
Luke crouched in the