“Please don’t. We all do our duty. ‘Faith without works is dead,’ ” she added, quoting a scripture verse.
“Yes, but a woman of your position in life could be considered a ‘faithful servant’ by just rolling bandages for a leper colony or filling barrels of old clothes for foreign missionaries.”
“A woman of your position could do the same, yet you’ve chosen to be a midwife.”
Sarah had to smile. “You’re right. I didn’t think of it that way.”
“There’s no need to think of it at all. I do what I must. Don’t admire me for it, Mrs. Brandt. It is my cross to bear.”
SARAH WAS STILL TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT MRS. VAN Orner had meant by that odd comment as she walked to the United Charities Building on Monday morning. She’d been worried that a birth might prevent her from keeping the appointment, but she’d delivered a baby on Saturday and found herself free when the time came.
Several people were already at the Rahab’s Daughters’ office when Sarah entered. A tall, muscular gentleman and a shorter, plump man appeared to be in their thirties. The taller man wore a tailor-made suit and had the well-tended look of the very rich. She’d known no other type of men when she was growing up. The other man seemed less affluent, but perhaps that was just because his suit was rumpled and his hair a little disheveled. A lady, dressed in a deceptively simple but hideously expensive gown and a hat with a large white bird perched on it, had been chatting with them, but they all stopped and turned to her as she closed the office door. Miss Yingling, Sarah noticed, sat behind her desk, apparently absorbed in some papers lying on its top.
“You must be Mrs. Brandt,” the lady said. “I’m Mrs. Spratt-Williams. This is Mr. Porter.” She indicated the tall man. “And Mr. Quimby.”
Both gentlemen bowed.
“I’m very pleased to meet you,” Sarah said.
Miss Yingling rose from her chair and went to the door of Mrs. Van Orner’s office. She tapped lightly, then opened it. “Mrs. Brandt is here.” She turned to the people gathered in the outer office. “Please go in.”
Mrs. Spratt-Williams went ahead, and Sarah followed. The two men came up behind, and Miss Yingling also came in and closed the door. Someone had gathered additional chairs and placed them in a semicircle around the desk.
As everyone took a seat, Mrs. Van Orner greeted them and thanked them for coming. Miss Yingling, Sarah noticed, pulled her chair slightly away from the desk. She sat down and balanced a small notebook on her knee, apparently prepared to take notes of some kind.
“Mrs. Brandt, have you met everyone?”
Sarah could smell the peppermint on her breath. “Yes, I have.”
“Then let’s begin by asking you to tell your story once again, so Mrs. Spratt-Williams and the gentlemen know the situation.”
Sarah started at the beginning, when Jake had come to fetch her. Mrs. Van Orner and the others stopped her occasionally to ask a clarifying question. They wanted to know every detail, including her impressions of each of the people she had encountered at the house. Mrs. Van Orner produced paper and a pencil and asked Sarah to sketch out the floor plan of the house showing the location of outside doors, Amy’s room, and Mrs. Walker’s office.
When she was finally finished and had answered all of their questions, Sarah sat back and studied the faces of each person gathered around the desk. Miss Yingling continued to scribble in her notebook. The others exchanged glances, silently communicating as good friends often do.
After a long moment, Mrs. Van Orner said, “I believe this Jake person will present the greatest obstacle.”
“Yes,” Mr. Porter agreed. “If we can get rid of him, we shouldn’t have too much difficulty.”
Mrs. Spratt-Williams turned to Sarah. “You’re going to get the baby tomorrow, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
Mrs. Spratt-Williams turned back to Mrs. Van Orner. “She could ask this Jake to drive her home in the carriage. She’ll be carrying the baby, so this would seem like a logical request.”
“I wasn’t going to take the baby to my home,” Sarah said. “There’s a mission on—”
“Your destination doesn’t matter,” Mrs. Van Orner said, “so long as you make sure he takes you in the carriage and is gone at least an hour.”
“That’s an excellent plan. As soon as they are out of sight, we can act,” Mr. Porter said.
“I’m sure the cook, Beulah, will offer resistance,” Sarah said.
“I’ll go to the front door and ring the bell, the way I did the last time we tried a rescue,” Mr. Quimby said. “She’ll go to answer it, and while she’s doing that, Mr. Porter and Mrs. Van Orner will enter through the back door and go up the stairs to Amy’s room.”
“What shall I do?” Mrs. Spratt-Williams asked almost eagerly.
“You’ll wait in the carriage and be ready to cause a distraction if anyone takes notice of what we’re doing,” Mrs. Van Orner said.
This assignment didn’t please Mrs. Spratt-Williams. “But I could help you in the house. If some of the other women wake up—”
“You’ll be a tremendous help to us out in the carriage, Tonya,” Mrs. Van Orner said a little too sharply. She saw Mrs. Spratt-Williams’s hand tighten into a fist, the only outward sign of her true reaction.
“What about the other women in the house?” Sarah asked quickly to distract them.
“We’ll go early in the morning, while the household is still asleep,” Mrs. Spratt-Williams said. “If all goes well, they may never know we were there.”
“I mean, what if some of them want to be rescued, too?”
Sarah felt their resistance to this like a physical force. They exchanged glances again, their expressions grim.
Mrs. Van Orner cleared her throat. “Then they will have to make themselves known to us.”
“But if they’re asleep and they don’t even know you’re coming or why you’re there—”
“Mrs. Brandt,” Mr. Porter said kindly, “the truth is that it’s unlikely any of these women will want to be rescued, even if they know why we have come.”
“And they’re
“Good heavens!”
“So you see,” Mrs. Van Orner said, “if we hope to rescue this Amy, we can’t risk alarming the other women or we may not even be able to get her out.”
“I know it’s disappointing,” Mrs. Spratt-Williams said, reaching over to pat Sarah’s hand. She’d obviously forgotten her own earlier frustration. “We’d like to save them all, but we must be content to do what we can.”
Sarah knew that feeling only too well from her volunteer work at the Daughters of Hope Mission. “Shall I tell Amy you’re coming when I get the baby?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Mrs. Van Orner said. “She might say or do something to give it away.”
“They may not even allow you to see her again, in any case,” Mrs. Spratt-Williams added. “They might be afraid she’ll get hysterical if she sees you taking the baby away.”
“You must be prepared for anything,” Mr. Porter added. “One never knows how these people will behave. They might not give you the baby after all, or the girl might change her mind at the last minute and refuse to go at all.”
Mr. Quimby nodded vigorously. “Yes, indeed, we’ve seen that happen, haven’t we?”
Sarah gazed at them in dismay. “Then I suppose I should ask what I should do if Jake won’t take me in the carriage?”
“You should do nothing,” Mrs. Van Orner said. “Simply take the baby away, if they do give him to you. Let us worry about Jake.”
SARAH FELT DISTRACTED AND IRRITABLE THE REST OF the day. Even spending time
