Harvest Moon (Borrowed Brides 2)

The judge raised an eyebrow. “No? Well, I’d like to hear what the boy has to say.” He smiled at Coalie. “I was looking forward to getting to know him. Would you like to ask the questions, Mr. Alexander, or shall I?”

David turned to Tessa.

The look in her eyes said, “Don’t embarrass Coalie. Make him feel important.”

“I’ll ask the questions, Your Honor,” David replied.

“Then get on with it.”

“Before we get started, Coalie, I’d like to know what you’ve been doing to work up such a sweat.”

Coalie grinned. “Me and the sheriff’s boys were building a snowman—a great big one, as tall as you.”

“That’s grand, Coalie,” David told him. “And as soon as you answer a few questions, I’ll let you get back to it. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now, first of all, you told us your name is Coalie Donegal. Can you tell me your father’s name or your mother’s?”

Coalie shook his head. “I don’t know ’em,” he explained. “I’m whatcha call a orphan.”

“Tessa Roarke isn’t your mother?” David asked.

“She takes care of me,” Coalie said.

David met Coalie’s worried gaze. “Coalie, it’s all right. You can tell us. Is Tessa your mother?”

“No.” Coalie hesitated. “I wished she was, but she’s not.” He looked up at David, then whispered loudly. “But I’m not supposed to tell anybody that.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause Tessa’s afraid somebody will take me away from her if they know.” Coalie wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

David took a clean handkerchief from hi

s trouser pocket and handed it to the boy. “You’re doing fine.” He patted Coalie on the shoulder. “Now, I’ll ask an easy question. How old are you?”

He went through the story of Coalie’s life.

“You delivered coal?”

“Yep. That’s where my name come from. I had another one, but I don’t remember it now. I’m Coalie ’cause I delivered coal and Donegal for Father Francis’s home in Ireland.” He swung his legs against the chair restlessly.

“Would you like to get down and walk around?” David asked Coalie, glancing at the judge for permission. Judge Emory indicated his assent with a quick nod.

Coalie scooted to the edge of the chair.

“How long did you deliver coal?” David inquired.

“Since I was big enough to carry the bucket. I’m stronger than I look.” Coalie flexed an arm muscle to prove it. “I think I was four, maybe five, when I started. I carried coal ’cause I was too scared of the roofs to be a chimney sweep.”

David wanted to cry just thinking about a child of five carrying buckets of coal through apartment buildings in Chicago or climbing down into chimneys. “Father Francis sent you out to work when you were only four or five?” David couldn’t hide the outrage in his voice.

“Not Father Francis. He was moved to another place,” Coalie said, defending the priest. “The man who took over the orphans’ home, he ’prenticed me to Mr. Clayburn, who owned a coal wagon.”

“So you met Tessa when you delivered coal to her apartment?”

“Yes, sir.” Coalie smiled. “She’s the best friend I ever had. She lived over the bakery. She gave me pastries ’cause I was always hungry.”