turned him upright and held him out for his mother to see.
Amy stared at him from where she lay against the headboard. Her hair was matted with sweat, and her face was red from exertion, but her eyes glowed with some inner fire. Not the pride or the joy Sarah usually saw from new mothers, but something primal and raw, something almost angry.
“Cut that cord so I can take care of the baby,” Beulah said.
Sarah looked up in alarm. “You’re not going to take him away, are you?”
“Lord, no, whatever give you an idea like that?” she asked in genuine surprise. “I just wanna get him cleaned up for his mama.”
Sarah turned to Amy, who nodded almost imperceptively. Sarah took care of the cord and placed him in the blanket Beulah held out. The cook took him over and laid him on the chaise, where she started to clean him up. Meanwhile, Sarah helped Amy deliver the afterbirth and got her cleaned up and comfortable again.
“Here now,” Beulah said, bringing the swaddled infant back over to the bed. “You wanna put him to the breast right away. We wanna get your milk started real good.”
Amy’s face looked as if it had been carved in stone. She took the baby, but she didn’t look at him. She was glaring at Beulah.
“Don’t look at me like that, girl,” the cook said. “Ain’t my fault you got yourself in trouble. Now you gotta do what you gotta do.”
“Why don’t you go tell Mrs. Walker that the baby is born?” Sarah suggested, wanting a few more minutes with Amy. “I’m sure she’ll want to see for herself.”
Beulah sniffed, aware that Sarah was trying to get rid of her, but she left, closing the door behind her.
Sarah turned back to Amy, who still wasn’t looking at her baby.
“Do you know how to find Mrs. Van Orner?” the girl asked. “Mrs. Gregory Van Orner. She helps prostitutes get out of the life. The girls all talk about her.”
“I told you, I can help you.”
“No, you can’t. It’s too dangerous. Mrs. Van Orner has people who help her, though. She knows how to do it. Can you find her?”
“Yes, I think I can.” Sarah had heard about the women who did that kind of work. “But what about the baby? You said they were going to take him away.”
“They’ll let me keep it for a few days. They want my milk to come in. Some of the customers like that,” she said, her lip curling in distaste.
Sarah felt nauseated, but she swallowed it down. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you get out of here.”
2
WHEN THE DOOR OPENED AGAIN, MRS. WALKER STEPPED into the room. She’d recovered somewhat from her earlier unease. She glanced at Amy, who, after instruction from Sarah, had started nursing her baby. Then she looked at Sarah, who made no effort to hide her anger.
“I see you finally figured it out,” Mrs. Walker said.
“I don’t appreciate being tricked.”
“I needed a midwife, and you wouldn’t have come to a whorehouse,” Mrs. Walker said with a shrug.
“I’ve never refused to help any woman.”
Mrs. Walker didn’t seem to care if that was true or not. “I guess you want to leave now.”
“I’ll stay until I’m sure Amy is all right. And I’ll need to come back again to check on her in a day or so.”
“If you’re willing to come, you’re welcome. I don’t want anything to happen to her.”
“You’re very kind,” Sarah said sarcastically.
“No, I’m not,” Mrs. Walker said. “I’m practical. Amy is very valuable to me. I take good care of all my girls.” She gave Amy a meaningful look. “Even when they lie to me.”
Amy simply glared back at her.
“Ring for Beulah when you’re ready to leave,” Mrs. Walker told Sarah. “She’ll pay you and have Jake bring the carriage around to take you home.”
When Mrs. Walker was gone, Sarah realized she hadn’t bothered to even notice the baby. Obviously, he meant nothing to her.
“Amy, they can’t keep you here against your will,” Sarah said. “You have the right to leave.”
Amy looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Of course they can keep me here. You should see what they do to girls who try to leave on their own. You can’t get far, not alone with no money, and they never let us have any of the money we earn. So they always catch you and bring you back. They only have to beat up one girl and let the others see it. Then nobody ever tries to get away again.”
Sarah swallowed down her outrage. She needed to be practical, like Mrs. Walker. “Do you have any idea how long they’ll let you keep your baby?”
“No. I heard Mrs. Walker telling Beulah the other day to watch for when my milk came in. I don’t know how long that takes, though.”
“A few days, maybe a week. Do you know where they’ll take the baby?”
“No, I don’t know anything. And if they take it before Mrs. Van Orner can get me out of here, how will I find it again?” She looked down in dismay at the baby nursing hungrily at her breast. So far, Sarah hadn’t seen her show any tenderness toward the boy, so Sarah was glad to see her showing some concern at last.
“I could offer to take him,” Sarah realized. “I know a place where he’d be safe. It’s a mission, a refuge for young girls. They’d take good care of him.”
“A mission? They’re church people then?”
“Yes, they’re Christians. They think it’s their duty to take care of the poor.”
Amy didn’t like it, but she really had few options. “Do you think they’ll keep him until I come for him?”
“I’ll make sure they do. Now tell me everything you know about this Mrs. Van Orner. You said all the girls know about her?”
“Yes, they talk about her. She has a group of friends, and they go into a house like this and rescue the girls who want to leave. The trouble is, nobody knows how to get a message to her.”
“I’ll do that for you. I’m sure I can find out how to get in touch with her.”
“I think she has an office in a building someplace with a lot of other do-gooders. That’s what I’ve heard anyway.”
“Oh, I know the building you mean. The Charity Organization Society.”
“I don’t know. I’ve only heard it called by some letters.”
“The COS, that’s what they call it for short.”
“Yes, that’s it! Oh, Mrs. Brandt, can you find it? Can you go there and tell Mrs. Van Orner about me?”
“Of course I can. I won’t leave you here, Amy. You can trust me.”
Amy sighed and closed her eyes. Her shoulders sagged, as if she’d been bearing the weight of the world and someone had suddenly lifted it for her. “You don’t know what this means to me,” she whispered, and a tear slid down her cheek.
“I think I do,” Sarah said.
“ARE YOU SURE THIS IS WHERE YOU WANT TO GO?” JAKE asked with a frown when he’d opened the carriage door for Sarah. They were on Mulberry Street, in one of the poorest sections of the city. Decrepit buildings loomed on both sides of the filthy street, and hordes of ragged children played disorganized games of tag and kick the can, shrieking wildly as they raced past.
“Yes, I do volunteer work at the Mission here,” Sarah said. She indicated the Old Dutch Colonial house with the newly painted sign that said, DAUGHTERS OF HOPE. The women whom Sarah had recruited to take over the management of the Prodigal Son Mission had decided to change the name to something more appropriate.
“If you’re sure,” Jake said doubtfully, lunging to scare away a filthy boy who looked as if he wanted to pick his pocket. “Do you want me to get you tomorrow at your house?”
“No, I’ll find my own way,” Sarah said.
