"Find something for Becky to wear, and while I take her upstairs and help her, you boys put on something dry."
Instinctively, Joseph took Becky's hand and drew her close to him.
"We gotta go--" Nathan interrupted. "Don't we, Joseph?"
"Joseph," Emma insisted. If she could get through to him now ... "Becky needs to be warm. She's going to get sick if she doesn't get warm."
Emma could see the indecision on the boy's face, and her heart went out to him. For whatever reason, these three children felt they had to run away, yet his obvious affection for his sister gave him reason to hesitate.
"Where are you taking her?"
"I'm going to dry her and change her clothes."
"She won't go with you. I'll take care of her."
"Fine." Emma smiled. "I want your word you won't leave until I come back."
He eyed her hesitantly, then looked at his brother and sister for their approval. Nathan barely nodded his head, and Becky just grinned up at him as another shiver overtook her.. "Okay. I promise. But then we have to go."
When Emma returned a few minutes later, the children were sitting at the table. For the first time, she took a good look at them. Both boys had the same coffee-colored hair and hazel eyes, but Joseph had a spattering of freckles across his nose. Nathan's skin was clear, and when he spoke to Joseph, Emma noticed a hole where a front tooth was missing. Becky was the image of a baby doll Emma had had as a child, and she could almost feel the little girl wrap her fingers around her heart.
Although the children were now dry, their clothes weren't in much better condition than those they'd removed. A button was missing from Joseph's shirt, and there was a three-cornered tear in the leg of Nathan's pants. The hem of Becky's dress had come loose, and she had a hole in her stockings. One of the children had lined up their shoes in front of the fire. All three pairs were scuffed and needed new soles.
Even though their clothing was shabby, the children apparently were responsible enough to care for what they had. Their wet clothes had been draped across the hearth to dry. Emma's admiration for them raised a notch. "How about a cup of hot cocoa?" she asked pleasantly. She had to keep them here until she could find out who they were, and figure out what to do. She'd already discovered they didn't respond to stern words. Especially Nathan.
"Cocoa?" Nathan repeated. "Ain't never had cocoa."
"You'll like it," Joseph assured his brother. "Yes, ma'am," he said, turning his attention to Emma. "That would be real nice."
Good, she thought, setting a kettle of water on the fire to boil. The children could use a hot drink to warm them.
Emma took the tin of cocoa from the cupboard. As she spooned the powder into three mugs and mixed it with sugar and a little milk, she tried to keep the conversation light. "What made you decide to stop here?" she asked. Her house sat at the edge of town, and it surprised her that runaways would go towards civilization instead of staying away from populated areas.
"Just got tired, that's all," Nathan replied. "But we gotta go just as soon as we're finished the cocoa."
"I see. Anywhere in particular?"
Nathan eyed her steadily. "Yep. We got plans, don't we?" He turned to his brother, who nodded in agreement.
"Good," Emma agreed. "It's always a good idea to make plans before one sets out on a journey. Don't you think it might be a wise to wait until morning when it's light and the storm is past."
Just at that moment, Becky yawned.
"Becky's sleepy. Why don't you stay here tonight and we'll talk in the morning?"
"No," Nathan said. "We have to move on."
"What's your hurry? Is someone looking for you?"
If Emma hadn't been watching closely, she would have missed the look that passed between the boys. "No," they both said in unison. "Nobody cares if we're gone."
"I see." Emma took a potholder off a hook near the fireplace and picked up the kettle, pouring the boiling water into the mugs.
Stirring the cocoa, she murmured, "I'm sure your parents care. Why, right now they're probably out in this terrible rain searching for you. They must be worried sick. If I had children like you, I know I would be."
"We don't have a ma," Nathan informed her. "She died."
That explained a lot, certainly the clothes in such need of repair. That might also explain the hollow look to them, as if they hadn't eaten properly in quite some time. "I'm sure your father must be worried--"