Free In the Face of Danger by Joan Lowery Nixon Page A

but Emma says that in the spring the hills will be green and there will be wildflowers.”
    Mrs. Haskill looked at her sharply, then turned to Emma. “Your daughter doesn’t favor you,” she said. “Your eyes are brown, as are your husband’s, and the girl’s eyes are blue. And her speech. If I didn’t know better, I’d think—”
    She broke off, and Emma said, “Oh, Megan is our adopted child. We chose her.”
    “I’m from New York City,” Megan said. “My name is Megan Eileen Kelly.” Trying to put Mrs. Haskill more at ease, she smiled and added, “And don’t feel badly about being impoverished. I was impoverished, too.”
    Mrs. Haskill turned to Emma with bewilderment and said, “I’m sure your intentions were excellent, but I fail to understand how you could possibly take into your home a child who is—who is shanty Irish!”

7

    M EGAN GASPED , UNABLE to believe her ears. The color rose in Emma’s cheeks, and her eyes sparked as shock gave way to anger. Deliberately she smoothed her apron over her knees, tilted her chin a little higher, and said firmly, “Mrs. Haskill, I’m sure you’re so exhausted from the long ride that you don’t know what you’re saying.”
    Mrs. Haskill looked puzzled as she tried to explain, speaking as though Megan weren’t there. “But my dear Mrs. Browder, I do know what I’m saying. It’s common knowledge that the Irish are dull-witted and lazy and therefore never able to rise above the laboring class.”
    “There’s not one word of truth in that statement!” Emma said.
    Megan’s face burned hot with anger, and she gripped the seat of her chair, trying to keep from speaking the words she was thinking.
    Mrs. Haskill appeared flustered. One hand crept to her cheeks, which were pink with embarrassment. When she spoke, her tone was conciliatory, and her words came slowly, as though she believed she could persuade Emmato listen to reason. “You are obviously not as knowledgeable about the Irish as the English are, since we have had closer dealings with them.”
    Megan knew about those “closer dealings.” She well remembered Da’s stories about the British armies that swept across Ireland, burning homes and tearing the roofs from churches. No allegiance was allowed except to the British Crown, and property was stolen from landowners and given to subjects loyal to England. Those Irish who emigrated to England or the United States, trying to keep from starving, found that laboring jobs were the only ones given to them—if jobs were offered at all.
    “I am not alone in my beliefs,” Mrs. Haskill continued. “In Boston it is quite usual to see, in the windows of shops and small businesses, Help Wanted advertisements that specify ‘No Irish need apply.’ ” She leaned back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap as though the discussion had come to a satisfactory conclusion.
    But Emma hadn’t finished. “It’s a pity that in Boston there are so many small-minded, mealymouthed people who can’t see beyond the ends of their turned-up noses! I hope that living in Kansas with people who know how to value each other will broaden your education, Mrs. Haskill.” Emma’s eyes bored into the other woman’s as she leaned forward and snapped, “And perhaps greatly improve your manners!”
    Mrs. Haskill gasped, and her teacup rattled so hard in its saucer that she had to put it on the table.
    The door flew open. Ben and Mr. Haskill stomped the dust from their feet on the front stoop and stepped into the room.
    “Well, well,” Ben said, beaming at the two women. “You should be pretty well acquainted by now. Emma, Itold Ada and Farley that you’d be excited about having another woman as a close neighbor.” Ben turned to Mr. Haskill. “We’ll see if Emma can make us a little something special for dinner to celebrate.”
    Emma sat staring straight ahead with her back stiff and her hands so tightly folded her knuckles were white. She didn’t repeat the