Song of My Heart (22 page)

Sadie raised her face to meet his gaze. She laughed softly. “We never stopped being friends.” How strange to fully trust this man with whom she’d only so recently become acquainted, yet the weeks of wonder and worry melted away beneath the warmth of his smile. Regret smote her. She’d wasted precious time—days she could never recapture—wondering if he’d misled her.

“There’s something else I want to ask you, too.” His hand still holding tight to hers, he glanced around the empty mercantile. Then he leaned across the counter, his face so close to hers his breath kissed her cheeks. “This isn’t hardly the time or place, but I don’t want to waste another minute. Sadie, would you do me the honor of allowing me to court you?”

Sadie gasped. Her free hand flew up to clamp over her open mouth. She stared at him.

“I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but I know enough to see you’re perfect for me. You love God, you want a big family someday, you’re hardworking. And I can see us serving a congregation together—me preaching, you singing . . .” He smiled, his fingers tightening on hers. “We were made for each other, don’t you see?”

Yes, Sadie did see. With a shaky laugh, she forced her hand away from her face and placed it over the top of Thad’s, sandwiching his hand between hers.

“So may I court you, Sadie?” He seemed to hold his breath, waiting for her answer.

Her chest heaved in several little bursts of air and then she exclaimed, “Yes!”

Thad pulled loose to plant his palms on the counter and then leap over the wooden barricade separating them. He wrapped her in a hug that lifted her feet from the floor. Sadie squealed, flinging her arms around his neck and holding tight. He laughed, the sound joyous, and Sadie responded with an echoing trickle of laughter.

“What’n tarnation are you two doin’?”

Sadie peeked over Thad’s shoulder at Miss Shelva, who glowered at them from the storeroom doorway.

The older woman pointed her bony finger at Thad. “Thad McKane, I don’t care if you are the town’s sheriff, you got no business comin’ in here an’ accostin’ our clerk!” She marched forward, her heels echoing noisily against the floorboards, and caught Sadie’s arm. With a mighty tug, she freed Sadie from Thad’s grip and shook her finger again. “Now you’d just better explain yourself, young man.”

Thad’s lips twitched with his grin. “Can’t a man give his intended a hug?”

Miss Shelva jolted. “Intended?” She captured Sadie’s shoulders and stared into her face. “That so, Sadie? He’s your beau?”

Beau—such a wonderful word! Sadie giggled. “Yes, ma’am.”

Miss Shelva scowled. “Since when?”

Sadie sighed. “Since
now
.”

Miss Shelva pursed her lips so tightly they disappeared. She looked from Sadie to Thad to Sadie again. Then she spun on Thad. “All right, then. But you can’t be comin’ in here, snatchin’ Sadie off the floor anytime you please. There’s rules for courtin’, you know, an’ just ’cause Sadie don’t got folks here in town to keep an eye on her don’t mean nobody’ll be watchin’. Me an’ Sister’ll be keepin’ watch on you, an’ you just best behave yourself, Thad McKane!” Tears winked in the older woman’s eyes. Her chin quivered. “We happen to be more’n just a mite fond o’ Miss Sadie.”

Thad reached out and embraced Miss Shelva. “I’m a mite fond of her myself, an’ I promise not to do anything untoward. You’ve got my word on it.”

Miss Shelva patted Thad’s back, sniffed, and jerked loose. She gave him a fierce scowl. “See that you keep it.” Then she spun and charged for the stairway, bellowing, “Sister! Our Sadie’s gone an’ got herself a beau!” She disappeared around the corner.

Thad chuckled, shaking his head indulgently. “Those twins . . . they’re something.”

Sadie caught his hand. “You’re something for being so kind to them.”

His tender gaze bore into hers, and his thumb slipped up and down, caressing her wrist. Tremors of pleasure climbed her spine. What had she done to deserve the affection of a man like Thad McKane? She released a self-conscious giggle. “Now that no one’s looking, could you hug me again?”

With a wink, he teased, “Sounds as if Miss Melva an’ Miss Shelva are planning to keep watch over the wrong half of this courtship.”

Fire seared her cheeks.

He threw back his head and laughed. “I think I’ve got something you’d like even better than a hug.”

Sadie’s heart set up a double beat. Would he kiss her again? But he pulled his hand from hers and slipped it beneath his vest. He held out a rumpled, dust-smeared envelope. Papa’s wobbly handwriting covered its front. Sadie squealed and yanked it from his hand. “My letter!”

“Only one. Couldn’t find the other.” Thad’s voice held regret. “But this one was caught in some brambles on the edge of town.”

Sadie stared at him in amazement. “You went looking for them?” She’d thought finding them an impossible feat. He’d even said so—that they were probably in the next county. Yet he’d hunted them anyway.

He grinned boyishly. “Had to at least try. I know how precious words from home are.” Pain laced his brow, but he swiped his hand over his face and cleared the glimpse of anguish. He grabbed his hat, holding it against his thigh, and took a giant step toward the door. “I’ll take my leave so you can get back to work.” Glancing around at the still-empty store—an uncommon happening for a Saturday noon—he added, “Or maybe sneak away somewheres an’ read your letter.”

She hugged the filthy envelope to her heart, envisioning the dear man who’d penned the words inside. “I am eager to read it.”

“Then you do that.” He slipped his hat over his hair, settling the brim low. Although the brim cast his eyes in shadow, Sadie glimpsed the sparkle of his smile. “I’ll see you this evening, Sadie, in the singing room.” He turned on his heel and opened the door. The bell jangled a merry farewell.

Sadie sank onto the little stepstool behind the counter and started to peel back the flap. But before she managed to remove the pages of the letter, a sudden thought stilled her hands. She’d told Mr. Baxter she wouldn’t wear the red dress or sing the songs he’d chosen. If she didn’t sing, she wouldn’t be earning the extra money Mama and Papa needed. If she weren’t able to earn enough to support her family, it didn’t make sense to remain in Goldtree.

At the time she’d told Mr. Baxter to find someone else, she’d believed she was doing the right thing. But now she considered the loss of so many precious things—time with Miss Melva and Miss Shelva, earning enough money to meet the needs of her family, and the pleasure of a courtship with Thad.

Closing her eyes tight, she pondered whether doing something questionable might be right if it carved the pathway to so many good things.

21 

S
id paused at the corner of the mercantile, moving out of the path of others filing through the alleyway. He’d thought Asa Baxter a little foolish, putting the entryway to the singing room at the rear of the big building, but it sure didn’t seem to hinder folks. They came in a steady stream. Good thing he’d reserved one of the special box seats. Cost him more to sit in one of the seats on the raised platform, but it meant he didn’t need to rush right down—he had a spot waiting.

He felt his tie to be sure the knot was still tight, then brushed his hands over the lapels of his best jacket. He didn’t want a speck of dust to spoil his appearance. He’d continued to leave little surprises for Sadie on the mercantile’s porch but otherwise kept his distance, not pushing Sadie too much. But tonight he intended to stick around after the show, steal a few moments with her, maybe even steal a kiss so she’d know for sure how much he cared for her. His mouth went dry at the thought of pressing his lips to hers. He’d waited so long to claim Sadie as his own.

“Hey there, Sid.”

Sid looked up at the cheerful greeting and found the town’s postman and his wife smiling at him.

“You heading to the program?” Mrs. Rahn asked.

“That’s right.” Sid tugged the bottom of his jacket, putting the buttons into alignment. “I haven’t missed one of Sadie’s shows yet.”

“She’s got a beautiful voice,” Mrs. Rahn said.

Mr. Rahn held up three fingers. “This is our third time to hear her. The wife an’ me have enjoyed it every time.”

Pride squared Sid’s shoulders. “We always said Sadie’d be makin’ audiences happy.”

The couple chuckled, and Mrs. Rahn said, “I reckon you were right.” She gave her husband’s arm a little tug, turning toward the porch.

But Mr. Rahn stayed planted. “Don’t know if Miss Sadie’s mentioned it, but you’ve got a letter waitin’ at the post office—somethin’ from Indiana.”

“I haven’t seen Sadie lately. Work’s kept me pretty busy,” Sid replied. That work would allow him to save enough money to buy Sadie a fine home. It’d all be worth it in the end.

Mr. Rahn said, “Might wanna stop by on Monday an’ pick it up.”

Sid’s folks had only written to him once before, begging him to return. He wasn’t eager to read another guilt-invoking plea, but he nodded. “I’ll come by Monday for sure.”

“Good. Good.” Mr. Rahn gave in to his wife’s prompting, and Sid followed the couple. He stepped onto the porch and nodded at Asa, who stood beside the door collecting tickets.

Asa stopped Sid with a hand on his arm. “Hold up. I need to talk to you.”

Sid swallowed a protest. He wasn’t on duty right now, but he shouldn’t argue with his boss. He stepped off the porch and waited in the sparse grass nearby, fidgeting, until the last person had entered the back door.

Finally Asa turned to face him. “We got a problem.”

Sid frowned. “What’s that?”

“Your cousin.” Asa folded his arms over his chest and peered down at Sid from his perch on the porch floor. “She’s refusin’ to add another night of singin’ to her duties.”

Protectiveness welled. Sid jammed his hands into his jacket pockets to keep Asa from seeing how they balled into fists. “She’s already singin’ two nights. That’s a lot of performin’. Takes its toll on her.”

Asa tipped toward Sid, his eyes narrowing into slits. “Ain’t askin’ her to sing every night of the week. Just one more night. But she refuses.” A smug look crossed the man’s jowled face. “I told her if she didn’t want to follow my schedule, I’d just find somebody else. So that’s what I’m fixin’ to do.”

Sid’s thoughts raced. If Sadie couldn’t sing, her income would drop considerably. If she couldn’t make enough money in Kansas to provide for her family’s needs back home, she might pack up and return to Indiana.

Asa went on. “Seems to me you got me into this mess—convincin’ me to give her a try. An’ now she’s runnin’ out on me. I ain’t too happy about it, Sid, I don’t mind tellin’ ya.”

Sid swallowed.

“Now, it ain’t that I dislike you. You’ve been a real good worker for me. Truth is, I was hopin’ to advance you in my freightin’ company—more responsibility, better wage. But now . . .”

Sid curled his hands over the railing. “What can I do to make it up to you?” If he lost his job with Asa, he’d end up back in Indiana, too. Back in the mines, just like his pa and uncle, breathing in black dust, worrying about cave-ins, never getting ahead. Advancing in Asa’s company was better than anything waiting at home, even if it meant Sadie was there, too. Somehow he’d fix this so both he and Sadie could stay here in Kansas instead of throwing away their dreams.

Asa leaned forward, nearly nose to nose with Sid. “Convince her to sing all three nights. It’s that simple. She keeps her job, you keep your job. I’m happy, you’re happy. Seems like it’d be best for everybody, now, doesn’t it?”

Sid looked into Asa’s smirking face. The man had him trapped, and he knew it. Sid sighed, lowering his head. “All right. I’ll talk to her.”

Asa clapped him on the shoulder. “Good boy. I knew I could count on you. Oh—one more thing . . .” He glanced around the yard, then put his face close to Sid’s ear. “This extra night of singin’? It’s by invitation only—real special. So don’t be talkin’ it up around town. Some folks might be offended, knowin’ they ain’t been asked to come.”

Sid frowned. Something sounded fishy about the setup. Before he could question it, Asa pulled open the door. A sweet melody drifted from the cellar.

“Show’s started. Better head down.” Asa chuckled, the sound more menacing than merry. “Sure would be a shame to silence a voice like Miss Sadie’s. Yes sir, sure would be a shame . . .”

Sid shot past Asa. Sadie would keep singing. Whatever it took, she’d keep singing. He’d see to it.

Thad stepped out of the sheriff’s office in time to tip his hat to Miss Melva and Miss Shelva, who bustled by in their Sunday best on their way to the Episcopal church. The pair nodded in unison, their feet stepping in perfect tempo on the boardwalk. “Have a blessed Lord’s day, Sheriff,” they chorused in voices that reminded Thad of honking geese.

“Thank you, ladies. You too.”

Over his weeks in Goldtree, Thad had determined every resident’s place of worship. He wished he could settle in with one congregation, but he didn’t want to play favorites—didn’t figure it would look right. So he continued rotating from church to church. Today he’d attend the Congregationalist church.