“Please come in. I’m Miss King, the director. Let me take your coat. May I pour you some coffee? Tea?”

“No, thank you.” Leah took off her coat and let Miss King hang it on the coatrack. Only six months earlier she’d been drinking milk in an orphanage and hanging up her own coat.

The smell of Lysol filled her nostrils, and the sound of small children playing filled her ears. The older children would be at school.

Miss King led Leah into a room filled with long tables and benches. “This is the dining room, where the children do their homework. We’ll put the books in here.”

Scuffed floorboards and scratched-up tables, but all was clean. “This is nice.”

“We do what we can.” Miss King fussed with a wiry strand of hair above her ear. “I’m pleased to say we can officially accept the book donation.”

“Officially?” When she’d talked to Miss King on the phone the day before, she’d heard nothing but enthusiasm.

She tucked the strand into her bun, but it sprang free. “I’m afraid I spoke out of turn. At last night’s board meeting I was in a bit of trouble for accepting the donation without asking. The chairwoman was not pleased.”

Mrs. Channing again. “I’m sorry. Are you sure—”

“Yes, yes.” She pushed a bench into line. “The board voted her down. I practically begged. We’re packed to the rafters with children, and we need to keep them occupied.”

A baby’s cry pierced, and Miss King aimed a sigh upstairs. “With an Army camp in town, you can imagine how many unwanted babies come our way.”

“I—I can imagine.” She stroked her rounded belly and was rewarded by a fluttery greeting from her much-wanted baby.

Miss King cocked her head and picked up a handkerchief under a table. “We still have so many older children who were abandoned during the Depression.”

“But the economy is strong now. Haven’t people begun to adopt?”

“Not with the men overseas and the wives working at Camp Forrest.”

“I—I hadn’t thought about that.”

“And donations have fallen.” She rubbed her foot over a stain on the floor. “The war effort takes priority, so other charities struggle. If it weren’t for Tullahoma’s best families, I don’t know what we’d do. We’re barely staying afloat.”

If only Leah could contribute, but it didn’t feel right to give out of Clay’s allotment. “Do you need volunteers?”

Miss King’s gaze darted to her. “Sure do. It’s hard to hire staff since we pay less than Camp Forrest. And with all the ladies working, it’s hard to find volunteers.”

“I’m interested. I have to quit my job in January, and I won’t return after my baby is born. Would it be possible to bring my baby along?”