More Than Meets the Eye Read online

  © 2018 by Karen Witemeyer

  Published by Bethany House Publishers

  11400 Hampshire Avenue South

  Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

  www.bethanyhouse.com

  Bethany House Publishers is a division of

  Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan

  Ebook edition created 2018

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

  ISBN 978-1-4412-6944-7

  Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by Dan Thornberg, Design Source Creative Services

  Author is represented by Books & Such Literary Management

  To Jeff and Kristie Gilliam

  Some might call it coincidence, but I call it providence. Only God could cross our paths at just the right moment to bring such blessing to all concerned. Your appearance in that Lubbock bookstore two years ago brought me genuine joy. I hope to return the favor with this long-awaited story. May the love reflected in these characters be reflected in your lives until Christ calls us home.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Contents

  Epigraph

  Prologue

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  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Books by Karen Witemeyer

  Back Ads

  Back Cover

  Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamor, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice: And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.

  —Ephesians 4:31–32

  Prologue

  1879—Fannin County, TX

  “Don’t lose heart, children. We have several strong families lined up in Bonham. I’m sure we’ll find good homes for each of you.”

  Four-year-old Evangeline Pearson smiled at the sponsor from the Children’s Aid Society as the lady made her way down the train car aisle, bracing her hand for balance against one empty seat after another. Seats that had been filled with children when they’d left New York.

  Miss Woodson always made Evie feel better. Even after seven . . . eight. . . . Evie scrunched her nose and unfolded her fingers one at a time as she tried to count. How many stops had they made? When she ran out of fingers, she gave up, huffed out a breath, and flopped back against the wooden bench seat. It didn’t matter. No one had wanted her at any of them. But Miss Woodson had promised to find her and Hamilton a home, and Evie believed her. She was such a nice person, after all. Nothing like the lizard lady sitting stiff and straight at the front of the train car.

  As if Mrs. Dougal had heard Evie’s thoughts, she twisted her neck around and scowled, her bulging eyes and pursed lips making Evie shudder. She buried her face in her brother’s shoulder.

  “Don’t let her scare you,” Hamilton whispered as he gently lifted his arm and wrapped it around her. At nine, Hamilton was ever so much bigger and stronger, and not afraid of anything. Even when Mama and Papa died. Or when Children’s Haven had decided the Pearson siblings would be riding the orphan train west. Never once did he cry or fret. He just hugged her tight and promised that everything would be all right. He was the bravest boy who ever lived.

  “She doesn’t like me.” Evie snuck a peek at the lizard lady, found her still scowling at her, and burrowed deeper into her brother’s side. “It’s ’cause of my eyes, isn’t it?”

  Hamilton slid his hands under her arms and lifted her onto his lap. He tipped her chin up and looked straight into her face. “There is nothing wrong with your eyes, Evie. They’re beautiful. God’s gift. Remember what Mama used to say?”

  Evie’s chin trembled slightly. Thinking of Mama always made her sad. Made her wish everything would go back to the way it had been. Mama holding her in the rocking chair and singing lullabies. Papa swinging her high into the air and laughing with that deep belly laugh that always made her giggle. Her room with rose paper on the wall. Her bed with the pink quilt and soft pillow. But it was gone. They were gone. Forever.

  “What did Mama say?” Hamilton insisted.

  “That only special little girls get eyes with two colors,” Evie mumbled. She wanted to believe it was true. She really did. But if having two different eyes made her so special, why did no one want her?

  Hamilton nodded. “That’s right. And you know what?”

  Evie glanced at her brother, envying his normal, matching brown eyes. “What?”

  “I wish my eyes were the same.”

  “As mine?” Evie leaned back, her forehead wrinkling. “Why? Then no one would want you, either.”

  Hamilton smiled and bopped a finger on the tip of her nose. “Every time you look in a mirror, you see both Mama and Papa looking back at you. Mama from your blue eye, and Papa from your brown one. And you know how much they both loved you. It’s kind of like getting one of those hugs where they sandwiched us between them. Remember those?”

  Evie nodded slowly. Oh yes, she remembered. So warm. So safe. Her in her nightdress in Mama’s arms, her legs wrapped around Mama’s middle. Mama smelling sweet, her long braid tickling Evie’s bare toes. Papa growling like a hungry bear, saying he needed an Evie sandwich, before he grabbed Mama and squished Evie between them. Their three heads jostled together. And their eyes . . . Mama’s bright blue ones to Evie’s left and Papa’s twinkling brown ones on her right. Just like hers!

  A smile broke out across Evie’s face. “Oh, Ham-ton, you’re right! I have the bestest eyes ever!”

  He folded her into a hug—not quite as bearish as Papa’s, but still warm and safe and full of love. “Don’t ever forget it,” he said as he squeezed her tight.

  As Evie rested in her brother’s arms, voices drifted to her from the front of the railcar.

  “Bonham’s the last stop,” Lizard Lady grumbled as Miss Woodson slid into the seat next to her, “though I don’t know why we should bother with it. No one’s going to take these misfits. Zacharias scares the women and angers the men with his hostile, defiant manner. Seth is so sickly, most families assume he’ll not make it through the winter. And Evangeline. She behaves well enough, but those unnatural eyes of hers unsettle decent folk. Heavens. They unsettle me.”

  “Lower your voice, Delphinia,” Miss Woodson urged. “The children can hear you.” She twisted in her seat to smile an apology at Evie. The smile didn’t take away t
he sting of Lizard Lady’s mean comment, but it gave Evie just enough gumption to ignore it while considering for the first time what the other leftover children must be feeling.

  Evie straightened away from her brother and turned around in her seat to look at the two boys behind her. Three rows back sat a boy close to Hamilton’s age. He looked nothing like her brother, though. He was so pale and skinny. The new coat the Children’s Aid Society had given him hung on him like it would a scarecrow. He stared out the window, his shoulders slumped, chest caved. And every time a puff of soot found its way into the railcar, he coughed.

  The other boy sat in the very back of the car on the opposite side. His back was pressed sideways into the corner, one long leg drawn up onto the bench, his hat pulled low on his face. Not so low she couldn’t see his eyes, though. They were dark, just like the rest of him. Dark clothes. Dark hair. Darkly tanned skin. He even had dark whiskers growing on his cheeks. But those dark blue eyes made her shiver. Especially when he stared straight at her. Like he was doing now.

  She didn’t think Zach had any friends. He was always by himself, even when the train had been filled with children. She had Hamilton. Zach didn’t have anyone. That was sad. Everyone needed a friend.

  Evie smiled and wiggled her fingers in a timid wave.

  Zach glared at her and showed his teeth like a growling dog.

  Evie snatched her fingers back and spun around in her seat. Maybe some people didn’t need friends after all.

  “I’ve had great success placing children in Bonham before,” Miss Woodson said. “I’m sure everything will work out.”

  Mrs. Dougal harrumphed. “The only kid you might place is the Pearson boy. Several have offered for him already. All you have to do is separate him from his sister.”

  Separate her from Hamilton? Evie’s heart pattered so hard it felt like it might break out of her chest. She grabbed her brother’s hand and held on for all she was worth.

  “But it’s so hard on the children when we split them up,” Miss Woodson protested.

  “It’ll be harder on them if they end up on the streets in New York. If we can save one, I say we do it. Sometimes the hard decisions are the right ones.” Mrs. Dougal tossed a quick look over her shoulder at Evie and Hamilton before sniffing and turning back to Miss Woodson. “There’s no reason to kill the boy’s chance at a promising future just to stave off a few tears. They’ll recover.”

  Evie stared hard at Miss Woodson, begging inside her head for her champion to tell Lizard Lady she was wrong. But she didn’t. Instead, Miss Woodson bit her lip and nodded.

  “You can’t let them split us up, Ham-ton!” Evie wailed in a desperate undertone, careful not to let Lizard Lady hear. “You can’t!”

  Hamilton squeezed her hand, his chin jutting out. “Don’t worry. I won’t.” Keeping hold of her hand, he slid off the seat and made his way into the aisle. “Come on. I need to talk to Zach.”

  The scary boy in the back of the railcar who’d just snarled at her? Evie dragged her heels. “I don’t wanna—”

  Hamilton huffed out a breath and gave her one of his don’t-be-such-a-baby looks. “He’s just a kid like the rest of us, Evie. And he can help.”

  He was most certainly not like the rest of them. She wasn’t even fully convinced Zach was a kid. Not with whiskers and legs nearly as long as Papa’s had been. But she wasn’t about to let her brother think she was scared, so she pressed her lips together and let Hamilton drag her along.

  “What d’ya want?” Zach lowered his leg from the bench to sprawl across the opening between his seat and the rear-facing one across the way, barring Hamilton from getting close.

  But that didn’t stop her brother. He just climbed over the barrier and sat in the seat facing the other boy, leaving Evie to clamber up beside him.

  “I need advice,” Hamilton said, his voice firm like Papa’s used to be whenever he was instructing them on proper behavior. “The sponsors think to split us up at the next stop, and I can’t let that happen. So I need to know how you get people not to claim you.”

  Slowly, Zach sat up and leaned across the open space between the two seats. His dark blue eyes narrowed, and the edge of his mouth lifted in a smile that looked downright scary. Evie’s stomach clenched.

  “I tell them that I’ll kill them in their sleep.”

  Evie gasped. How could someone say such a terrible thing? Surely he didn’t mean it. Did he?

  Zach smirked at her. Evie whimpered.

  Hamilton, on the other hand, nodded. “Right. Threaten to kill them. Got it.”

  What? Evie’s gaze jerked to her brother. He couldn’t!

  Zach must have thought the idea outrageous as well, because he shook his head and sighed. “Look, kid, just because it works for me doesn’t mean it’ll work for you. You got one of them angel faces. No one will believe you capable of murder.”

  “Maybe he can cough, like me.” Seth wandered down the aisle, a sudden hacking making everyone turn to look at him. “Act”—he coughed into the handkerchief the sponsors insisted he carry—“sick.”

  Zach shook his head. “Nah. He looks too healthy. They’ll assume he’ll get better.” The older boy lifted his hat and scratched at a spot on his head, the meanness leaking away from his face. “We gotta find something else.”

  Evie looked from one boy to the next. Was Zach actually helping them? Maybe Hamilton was right. Maybe he just pretended to be awful. Though why someone would want everyone to hate him, Evie couldn’t understand, not when she tried so hard to get people to like her.

  Zach eyed Hamilton up and down, then crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his seat. “Spoiled rich kid. That’s your angle.”

  Hamilton frowned. “But I’m not rich. All I have are one spare set of clothes and the cardboard suitcase the Children’s Aid Society gave me. Same as everyone else.”

  Zach unfolded his arms, a devious light twinkling in his dark blue eyes. “Yeah, but with names like Hamilton and Evangeline, it’d be easy as pie to get people to think you come from money. Farm folk resent rich folk. Think they’re spoiled and have no work ethic.”

  Evie had no idea what a work ethic was, so she probably didn’t have one. Maybe that was why no one wanted to take her home. Hamilton must have one, though, since people liked him. He’d have to find a way to hide it.

  “Start throwing demands around. Then throw a fit. Yell. Scream. Flail around.” Zach was grinning now. A smile that actually looked happy instead of scary.

  “And if all else fails, bite ’em.” Seth offered that bit of advice once his cough settled. “Whenever I wanted the nurses to leave me alone, I bit ’em. They stayed away for a good long while after that.”

  Zach slapped the frail boy on the back, nearly sending him to the floor. “Good idea! May have to try that one myself someday.” He started chuckling, and the other boys joined in.

  Evie laughed, too, even though she didn’t think biting was particularly funny. A kitten had bitten her finger once, and it hurt for two days afterward. But if biting would keep her and Hamilton together, she’d bite someone, too.

  “Get back to your seats, children,” Miss Woodson called from the front of the car. “We’re almost to Bonham. You’ll need to gather your belongings.”

  Evie shared a look with Hamilton, then climbed off the seat and headed back to where they’d been sitting. Her tummy twisted and pinched at the thought of what might happen when the train stopped, but she remembered what Mama had always told her to do when she felt afraid.

  Once in her seat, she folded her hands in her lap, bowed her head, and closed her eyes.

  Don’t let them take Hamilton away from me. Please. I need somebody down here who loves me.

  An hour later, Evie stood on a raised platform in the local courthouse with Hamilton, Seth, and Zach, waiting for the families to come in and look them over.

  “Stand tall, don’t fidget, and speak only when spoken to.” Miss Woodson gave the same instructions
she did at every stop as she walked the line to inspect them one last time. She paused to tug Seth’s coat sleeves down over his wrists, then ran a smoothing hand over Evie’s hair. When she moved toward Zach, he gave her such a mean look that she backed away without touching him. “Smile,” she said as she shot a chiding look at the boy slouching in the corner, “and mind your manners.”

  The families started coming in, and Evie’s heart raced. Please let someone want me. And Hamilton. Together. Please.

  She did everything Miss Woodson had told her. She didn’t fidget. Stood tall as she could manage. Smiled. All while hiding her eyes. She kept her face downcast, watching feet instead of faces move through the courthouse lobby.

  Hamilton stood a few feet away, talking with a man and his wife.

  “We really only want a boy, one who can help in the fields,” the man was saying.

  “Remember the agreement you signed, Mr. Potter.” Miss Woodson joined the group. “Any child you receive must be treated as a member of your family. And if you expect a farmhand’s labor from him, you must offer a farmhand’s wages.”

  “I know. But he’s talkin’ about me takin’ on his sister as well. She’s too young to be much help on the farm, and if I’m payin’ wages, I won’t have the funds to feed and clothe another child.”

  “Let’s just look at her, John. Please? She’s got the same reddish-brown hair Nellie did. Maybe if I had another girl around the kitchen, I wouldn’t miss our daughter so.” A gray skirt swished in Evie’s direction.

  Evie smiled as wide as she could stretch her lips. Please want me. Please want me.

  The lady in gray stopped in front of Evie, then hunkered down. Determined to hide her eyes, Evie kept her gaze focused on the lady’s skirt.

  “What’s your name, child?”

  Evie swung back and forth, then remembered she wasn’t supposed to fidget and stopped. “Evangeline.”

  “That’s a pretty name. You remind me of my daughter, Nellie. She’s grown now. Married a man from two counties over, so I don’t get to see her very often. I miss having a little girl around. I could teach you how to cook and sew. Would you like that?”