Song of My Heart (31 page)

Oh, how she wished she could tell them about the activities in the mercantile’s cellar on Tuesday nights. Unburdening herself would relieve the weight of responsibility. But telling them would be selfish. They adored their brother. It would kill them to know he took part in illegal activities. Their ignorance saved them from distress and also allowed them to be innocent of any wrongdoing. She couldn’t tell anyone. Except Sid.

She counted down the hours to her cousin’s return. Thankfully she had no need to hurt him with news of her courtship with Thad. Instead, she would share her concerns about Mr. Baxter’s Tuesday night shows. Together they would find a solution to the problem.

On Thursday, about a half hour from closing time, the little bell above the mercantile door jangled. Sadie, busy stacking hosiery in a basket in the back corner of the store, didn’t bother to look up until Miss Shelva screeched, “Sadie! Your cousin’s here an’ wants to see you!”

Sid! Sadie dropped the rolled stockings, which bounced across the floor. Stepping over the fallen items, she flew around the shelves and straight into Sid’s surprised embrace. The moment she buried her face in the curve of his shoulder, tears spurted.

His low chuckle vibrated. “Did’ja miss me?”

Miss Shelva answered while Sadie continued to hide in Sid’s musty-smelling shirt collar. “She’s been moony all week. She’s sure as shootin’ been missin’
somebody.
”

Sadie knew the someone to whom Miss Shelva referred, but Sid obviously thought otherwise. His arms tightened on Sadie, the hug possessive. He whispered, “I missed you, too.”

A strong hand curled around Sadie’s upper arm and pulled her free of Sid’s hold. Miss Melva kept a grip on Sadie while she glowered at Sid. “This girl’s in need of a little cossetin’. Take her next door, make her eat some peach pie at Cora’s, an’ then bring her back with a smile on her face.”

Sid beamed. “Yes, ma’am!” He held out his elbow. “You heard the lady. Let’s go, Sadie.”

“But . . . but I’m still on duty.” Sadie looked from Miss Melva to Miss Shelva.

Miss Shelva waved both hands at Sadie. “Go! You’re just about useless right now anyway, what with your mind on other things.” Although her words were blunt, her tone wasn’t unkind.

Miss Melva leaned down and rasped in Sadie’s ear, “Best cure for a heartache is time with an attentive fella. So go on now. Find your smiler again.” She gave Sadie a little push toward Sid. “Take good care o’ our girl now, y’hear?”

“I will.” Sid caught Sadie’s hand and placed it in the bend of his elbow. He escorted her onto the boardwalk, but instead of leading her to Cora’s, he took her around the corner to the alleyway. Then he captured her in another hug. He sighed against her hair. “Ah, Sadie, makes me so happy to have you run to me that way. The whole time I was gone on this trip, I was thinkin’ about you. An’ I—”

Sadie wriggled loose. “Sid, I have to talk to you.”

He grinned at her. “Why, sure. That’s what we’re doing—talkin’.”

“About something
important
.”

His eyes sparkled. “I got somethin’ important on my mind, too.”

Sadie let out a long sigh. “Sid, please . . . can we go somewhere private?” She glanced up and down the alley. Although no one was nearby, she still felt too vulnerable out in the open.

Sid slipped his arm around her waist and urged her back toward the street. “Tell you what, Asa’s expectin’ me. I need to take the wagon to his place. You can ride out with me.”

Apprehension struck so fiercely she jolted. She started to protest, but Sid went on. “We can talk on the road—it’ll be just the two of us. Nice an’ private. All right?”

Although still hesitant about seeing Mr. Baxter, she offered a jerky nod. Sid helped her into the wagon. He settled beside her, released the brake, and took up the reins. With a broad smile, he chirped to the horses, and the wagon rolled forward.

Sadie waited until they’d left the town behind before shifting sideways on the seat to face her cousin. “Sid, I sang Tuesday night in the opera room.”

Sid shot her a quick, interested look. “How’d it go?”

Sadie swallowed the bitter taste that filled her mouth. “Awful.” She told him about the open doorway and the odor wafting from the other part of the cellar. She described the change in the men after trips into the other room. His face hardened when she shared some of the remarks the raucous audience members made while she sang. She finished, “I don’t know what to do. Mr. Baxter is certainly providing liquor to the Tuesday night customers. I need this job, but I can’t participate in something illegal.”

Sid clenched his jaw. His eyes turned steely. “No, you can’t.”

Hope ignited in her chest. “So you’ll talk to him? You’ll fix things?”

“Don’t worry, Sadie.” Sid transferred the reins to one hand and placed his free hand over hers, which she clutched together in her lap. “I’ll fix things.”

Sid drew Hec and Rudy to a halt outside the barn. He wished he’d left Sadie in town, where she’d be safe from any fracas that might erupt between himself and his boss. Anger burned deep within his soul. He’d battled bullies for Sadie in the past, and even if Asa Baxter was his employer, he wouldn’t hesitate to punch the man right in the nose if everything Sadie said was true. How could Asa have allowed her to be mistreated? Paying her five dollars for a few hours of work didn’t earn him the right to let men abuse her.

He hopped down and held out his hands to Sadie. He assisted her to the ground, then pointed to a low bench tucked in the slanting shade of the tool shed. “Have a seat. I’ll find Asa an’ we’ll get this Tuesday night show figured out.”

“Thank you, Sid.”

The relief shining in her blue eyes refueled Sid’s determination to rescue her. “Don’t worry,” he said, offering a wobbly smile. “Everything’ll be all right.” He watched her scurry to the bench and seat herself. Then he lifted his hand in a wave and stalked into the barn. Even though Asa was a man of wealth, he seemed to spend more time in his barn than in his house. More often than not, Sid found him puttering around in the huge wooden structure when he returned the freight wagon after a delivery.

He entered the barn, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the lack of sunlight. Asa had closed all the shutters, shrouding the building in deep shadow. Squinting through the murky gloom, Sid called out, “Asa? You in here?”

A scraping sound reached Sid’s ears, and he looked up to the loft. But no wisps of hay flitted down, alerting him to someone’s presence. The muffled
scrrrape
came again, and Sid looked around in confusion. “Asa?”

Like a badger emerging from a hole, Asa’s head popped up from the hay-strewn floor. “Sid, that you?”

Sid strode forward, his brow furrowed. Up close, he noted steps carved of dirt leading downward. A wooden door folded back against the barn wall. Asa came all the way up, his feet scuffing on the dirt and creating the noise Sid had heard. He pointed to the hole. “You got a cellar in the barn?”

Asa smacked the door into place and kicked hay over the planked wood, effectively hiding it from sight. Then, swishing his hands together, he faced Sid. “You’re back early. Everything go all right in Beloit?”

Sid shook his head as if to clear it. Was the man deaf? Or had he just chosen to ignore Sid’s question? Well, two could play the change-the-subject game. Planting his fists on his hips, he shot Asa a challenging look. “Sadie told me about the Tuesday night show. Said half the fellas who came were drunk. You the one supplyin’ ’em with liquor?”

To Sid’s aggravation, Asa released a chortle. He pushed past Sid, crossing to disappear behind a stall wall. “So what if I am?”

Sid followed. He watched Asa wrestle a canvas sheet over a stack of crates. “Liquor’s been outlawed in Kansas. You could get yourself in a heap o’ trouble sellin’ it. An’ you’re puttin’ Sadie in harm’s way, stickin’ her in a room with a bunch of liquored-up men bent on a good time.” When he considered what might have happened, indignation filled him. He marched forward and caught Asa’s shoulder, spinning the man around. “You can’t be expectin’ her to stand on that stage an’ entertain men who aren’t in full control o’ themselves.”

Asa’s beady eyes narrowed. He brushed his shoulder with pudgy fingers, as if removing Sid’s touch from the black broadcloth. “Gettin’ a mite pushy there, boy.” His voice held a warning note. “You might wanna remember you work for me. As does your cousin. An’ if you wanna get paid, you—an’ she—will do as you’re told.” He started for the center of the barn, but Sid stepped into his pathway.

“Ain’t right.” Sid forced the words past clenched teeth. “You can’t be—”

“Can’t?” Asa screeched louder than Sid had ever heard him. “
You
are tellin’
me
I can’t run my business the way I see fit?” He threw back his head and laughed—a guttural sound.

“Yes,” Sid said, “an’ you best pay heed. ’Cause I won’t let you do anything that’d hurt Sadie.”

Still chuckling, Asa said, “That so? An’ just how you think you’re gonna stop me?”

Sid ground his teeth, battling the urge to plant his fist in Asa’s beefy face. Before he could form a reply, Asa chuckled again.

“Boy, you got nerve, I’ll say that for you. But you oughtta take a step back an’ do some deep thinkin’ before you say another word.” Folding his arms over his chest, Asa smirked at Sid. “Way I see it, we’re in this business together—you, me, an’ your sweet little cousin.”

Asa’s conniving tone sent chills up Sid’s spine. He frowned, his fists twitching. “How so?”

“Well, now, it’s true I been makin’ liquor. Beer an’ wine—quality brew, both of ’em. Folks’d be hard pressed to find anything better. An’ I got customers lined up from here to the borders of Nebraska an’ Oklahoma, just waitin’ to buy.” Asa propped his elbow on the top rail of the stall. “Those Tuesday night shows? They’re more for the men puttin’ their hands to a deck of cards or bettin’ on a roulette wheel than actually drinkin’.”

Gambling? Sid gaped at Asa, uncertain he’d heard correctly. The man was breaking the law in every direction!

Asa continued calmly. “ ’Course, havin’ the liquor in their bellies does seem to loosen their purse strings. So plyin’ ’em with drinks adds to my coffers quite nicely.”

Sid shook his head. “But why involve Sadie?”

Asa snorted. “Pretty little gal like her is as much a draw as the beer, my boy. An’ if somebody should come down the mercantile stairs, all they’ll see is a bunch of men enjoyin’ a special performance. She’s my distraction, so to speak.”

Sid quivered with the force of his fury. “Well, she ain’t gonna be your distraction anymore. She won’t be doin’ those Tuesday shows.”

Asa didn’t even blink. “Oh yes, she will.” He lowered his arm slowly, his knowing leer fixed on Sid’s face. “You know good as me how much she wants to sing. How much she
needs
to sing to provide for her poor widowed mama an’ all those fatherless tykes at home.” Asa
tsk
ed, shaking his head. “Why, what’ll her family do if she stops? Starve, most likely. She don’t want that on her head.”

Sid reached out and grabbed Asa’s coat front, wadding the fabric in his hands. Nose to nose with Asa, he growled, “She ain’t gonna sing on Tuesdays no more. An’ I’m gonna tell Sheriff McKane what you’re doin’ down in that singin’ room.”

“You watch yourself, boy.” Asa planted his hands on Sid’s chest and pushed. Sid stumbled backward, and Asa straightened his coat. “She
is
gonna sing, an’ that’s final.” Then he replaced his scowl with a knowing grin, folding his arms over his chest. “As for tattlin’ to our fine sheriff . . . you ain’t gonna do it. You’re in just as deep as I am.”

“Me? How so?”

“Makin’ an’ distributin’ liquor’s against the law, right? Well, I might be the one makin’ it, but you been the one distributin’ it.”

Sid’s heart kaboomed in his chest. “What?”

“Them crates you been takin’ to Abilene an’ Beloit? Wine. All wine.” Asa ambled toward the barn’s wide opening. “If you turn me in, I’ll just name you as my partner. You’ll go down as quick as me. An’ your dear little cousin’ll come tumblin’, too.”

Sid pounded after Asa and blocked him from leaving the barn. “The sheriff won’t believe I’m involved.”

“You don’t think so?” Asa stared at Sid as if he’d taken leave of his senses. “Who brought Sadie to town to perform in the opera house? Who’s the one deliverin’ crates of liquor to men across the state? The sheriff’s gonna look at what you’ve done an’ hang a guilty sign around your neck just as quick as a wink.” He shook his head, cackling. “Boy, you ain’t got a chance.”

Sid’s mind raced. As much as he hated to admit it, his actions could be read as helping Asa establish a gambling and drinking hall. He gritted his teeth, stifling a groan at his own ignorance. How could he have gotten Sadie into such a mess?

“Another thing . . .” Asa grabbed Sid’s arm and dragged him into the bowels of the barn, well away from the sunlight-splashed opening. “That sheriff’s gotten mighty snoopy. I think he might be spyin’ on Sadie. He tried to court her.”

Sid’s heart caught. What all had gone on while he was on the road, unknowingly delivering Asa’s home-brewed liquor?