Song of My Heart (29 page)

Miss Melva cringed. “You’re right, Sister. The sheriff’s a good-sized man. Then there’s his clothes, too.”

“Probably need to go house to house an’ see if any ladies’ll be willin’ to let loose o’ some o’ their home-canned tomaters.”

“Seein’ as how tomaters’ve been on the vine a good month already, surely folks around town’ll have some to spare.”

Sadie stood rooted in place, her head bobbing back and forth from sister to sister as she tried to keep up with their fast-paced conversation.

“Sadie, take the wheelbarrow an’ bother every neighbor up an’ down the street. Gather as many tomaters—canned or fresh from the vine—as you can find,” Miss Shelva directed.

Miss Melva pointed at Sadie. “Then take it all to the sheriff’s office an’ lend him a hand.”

Sadie pressed both palms to her bodice. “Me?”

“ ’Course you.” Miss Melva balled her hands on her scrawny hips. “Only fittin’ you do it, seein’ as you an’ the sheriff have taken up company with one another.”

“Neither Sister nor me could do it,” Miss Shelva added, her thin face flooding with color. “Why, we’re maiden ladies. What would folks think?”

Sadie was a maiden lady, too, even if she were being courted by Thad. She spluttered, “But . . . but . . .”

Miss Shelva gave her a little push. “Just do as we say.”

Sadie reluctantly plodded in the direction of the back door.

Miss Melva called after her, “ ’Sides, Sheriff’s gonna need his clothes cleaned, too. He can just plunk himself an’ his clothes in the washtub. Nothin’ unseemly ’bout you scrubbin’ a fully dressed man.”

Despite Miss Shelva’s proclamation, Sadie nearly died of embarrassment when she knelt next to the iron washtub where Thad hunkered, his knees under his chin. He’d dragged the tub out to the sparse patch of grass between the office and a storage shed rather than being closed in his tiny living space with the awful smell. But even outside, with the wind blowing, Sadie couldn’t escape the stench.

“I wish I had a clothespin,” she said as she emptied a quart jar of Mrs. Rahn’s last year’s tomatoes over Thad’s head. The inside of her nose felt fairly singed.

“You think it’s bad now, you ought to have been there when the consarn animal let loose.” He hunched his shoulders while Sadie used a bath brush to grind the tomatoes into the fabric of his shirt. “I couldn’t even see, my eyes watered so bad. An’ the horse took off, leavin’ me afoot.” He grunted. “Took me a full two hours to walk back to town, all the while breathing in what the skunk sprayed all over me.”

Sadie groped blindly for another jar, her nose pressed against the shoulder of her dress. Her fingers located one, and she popped the wire latch. “It’s hard to imagine one small animal being capable of creating such a powerful aroma.”

“Wasn’t just one,” Thad groused. “I startled a whole family—mama an’ four babies. An’ they all let loose.”

A picture formed in Sadie’s head, and before she could stop herself, a snort of laughter blasted. She covered her mouth, but her entire body shook as mirth overtook her.

Thad glowered at her. “It isn’t funny, Sadie. Folks clear over in Ottawa County are probably asking themselves right now, ‘Where’s that smell comin’ from?’ ”

Sadie laughed harder. Amazing how good it felt to laugh. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d laughed so freely. She begrudged the cause of her amusement—poor Thad, suffering so—but she gloried in the ability to give way to uninhibited laughter. Wasn’t there a verse in Proverbs that declared laughter was good medicine? Weight seemed to fall from her shoulders with each jostle of uncontrolled humor.

Thad, however, was not amused. “I mean it. Stop laughin’. How’m I gonna be able to surprise anybody with skunk smell all over me? It’ll probably never come out of my leather vest or my hat. Dumb animal just ruined my chance of sneak—” He broke off, clamping his jaw tight.

Sadie buried her face in her apron to bring her laughter under control. Her voice muffled, she asked, “Ruined what?”

Thad folded his arms over his chest, hunkering down. “Nothin’. Never mind.” He sent a crinkled-nose glare in her direction. “Can’t you hurry? My legs are cramping up in here.”

She swallowed another chuckle. He reminded her of one of her younger brothers, his lower jaw poked out and brow all crunched in a pout. But she could hardly blame him for being grumpy, considering what he’d been through. Biting down on the end of her tongue to avoid so much as a snicker, she dumped every last can and jar of tomatoes over Thad.

Bits of tomato caught in his hair and on his shoulders. Juice dripped down his face, chest, and back. He resembled a chicken in a stew pot, but she kept the comment to herself and used his bath brush to grind the tomatoes into his clothing, hair, and exposed skin.

An hour later, he dumped the tomato mess into the alley, turned the tub upside down beside the shed, then walked over. Sadie hid a smile at the little trail of tomato bits he left behind. He propped his fists on his hips. “Well? Do I smell any better?”

Truthfully, he still stunk. Of skunk
and
tomato. But at least the pungency of the skunk odor had been mellowed. “It’s better,” she said. She began stacking the empty jars in the crate to return them to their owners. Thad reached for the empty cans scattered across the yard and tossed them into the wheelbarrow.

Sadie smiled, finding pleasure in working side by side with Thad under the hot sun, the wind tousling their hair. “You’ll want to change out of those clothes as quickly as possible,” she advised. “Wash them and use a vinegar rinse—I seem to recall Mama using vinegar to battle fierce odors. Then hang them in the shed for a few days to let them air out.”

Thad smacked another can into the wheelbarrow with such force it bounced out again. With a little grunt, he scooped it up and put it back. “Wish I could hang myself in the shed.” He sniffed his own arm and grimaced. “Enough stink on me yet to offend all of Five Creeks Township.”

Placing the last jar in the crate, she squinted up at him. “Where did you encounter the skunk family?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

She coughed to cover a chortle. How could he be so attractive even in his grumpiness? She started to lift the crate, but he darted to her side and took it from her. He put it on top of the cans in the wheelbarrow, taking care not to rattle the jars. Even in a state of temper, he was a gentleman and exercised restraint. She believed she’d been given a glimpse of Thad’s character in the last hour, and she liked what she saw.

But she didn’t like how he smelled. She skittered to the other side of the wheelbarrow to be upwind of him. Offering a smile, she said, “Well, I suggest you avoid that area from now on. After you scared her babies, that mama skunk will probably be on the lookout for you.” She’d hoped her teasing comment might raise a smile, but he stared into her face, his lips set in a grim line and his forehead furrowed. His solemn-yet-puzzled expression made her stomach churn with apprehension. “Is something wrong?”

He took a step forward. She automatically retreated—not out of fear of him, but to avoid the unpleasant aroma trapped on his skin and tomato-stained clothing. His frown deepened. “Sadie, there’s something I need to ask you.”

Why did he sound so ominous? She licked her dry lips. “A-all right.”

“It’s about—”

“Whoo-
ee
!” The exclamation blasted from Sadie’s left. She shifted her gaze and spotted Mr. Baxter at the back corner of the sheriff’s office. He waved his pudgy hand in front of his face, his mouth puckered up as if he’d just bitten into a sour pickle. “Who got skunk-sprayed?” Then he looked Thad up and down and chuckled. “Reckon I already know.” Shaking his head, he strode forward a few feet, keeping a fair distance between himself and Thad. “All them tomater stains give ya away.”

Thad glanced down his own length and grimaced. “I need to get changed.” He started toward the back door of the office, then paused and looked at Mr. Baxter. “Did you need me for something?”

The other man shook his head, his lank gray hair flopping. Two oiled strands caught in the breeze and stood up like a pair of crooked cockroach antennae. “Nope. Come to fetch Miss Sadie here. Got some business to discuss with her.”

Thad sent Sadie a disgruntled look. Sadie nodded in understanding. Duty always seemed to steal their time together. He blew out a breath. “Go ahead, Sadie. I’ll come by the mercantile tomorrow after closing. Hopefully, I’ll smell fresh enough to be around decent folk by then. We can go to Cora’s for supper. An’ talk.” The last word carried a hidden meaning.

Sadie flicked a glance at Mr. Baxter. Tomorrow was Tuesday—opening night of his special shows. Apparently Thad wasn’t on the invitation list or he’d know she wasn’t available. Mr. Baxter had warned her not to speak of the Tuesday night shows, so she didn’t know how to respond.

Mr. Baxter coughed out a laugh, aiming his leering grin in Sadie’s direction. “Reckon congratulations are in order. My sisters tol’ me how you an’ the sheriff’ve decided to keep company. Fine match, fine match.” His mouth formed a grin, but his eyes glimmered with something other than approval.

Thad took another step toward the building. “Well, if you’d excuse me, I’m gonna—”

“Sheriff, hate to say it, but Miss Sadie ain’t gonna be free for supper tomorrow night.” Mr. Baxter’s grin turned sly. “Her an’ me . . . we got plans.”

Sadie cringed. Mr. Baxter made it sound as though the two of them were in cahoots together. Which, she supposed, was true. But his tone seemed intended to garner a jealous response.

Thad slipped his thumb into his trouser pocket and squinted at Mr. Baxter. “That so?”

“Uh-huh. Been set for a couple weeks already, so your supper’ll have to wait.” Mr. Baxter sputtered out another fake cough. “Prob’ly best anyway. That skunk smell ain’t goin’ nowhere for a while. Cora’ll chase you out of her café with a wooden spoon, you go an’ smell up the place.”

Sadie looked in confusion from man to man. Why was Mr. Baxter deliberately baiting Thad? The muscles in Thad’s jaw clenched and unclenched, then he shook his head, releasing a rueful chuckle.

“I reckon you’re right, Asa. Last person I’d want to rile is Cora, seeing as how she feeds me on a daily basis.” He shifted his attention to Sadie, but his expression didn’t soften. “Since you’re busy tomorrow, I’ll stop by sometime Wednesday an’ we’ll figure out an evening for us to maybe go for a ride. Do some talking. That sound good?”

She and Thad, all alone, away from town . . . Did eagerness or foreboding account for her scampering pulse? Sadie nodded. “That’s fine, Thad.” She reached for the wheelbarrow handles.

Mr. Baxter quickly swaggered over and pushed in front of her. “Here now, little lady, you shouldn’t be doin’ heavy work such as totin’ wheelbarrows. You just step aside an’ let me take care of this.” He flashed a grin at Thad. “Bye, now, Sheriff. Stay away from skunk dens now, you hear?”

28 

A
sa scuffed his feet, stirring up dust, as he propelled the wheelbarrow toward the mercantile. Hot wind blasted him, adding to his temper. What’d the little singer gal think she was doing, taking up with the sheriff? Sure as the sun rose in the east, she’d slip and talk about the Tuesday night shows. Wasn’t it enough some ornery fellas had torn apart the mercantile, trying to find Asa’s stash of beer? He’d managed to persuade the sheriff that the whole thing had been a prank, but the lawman would surely nose around if Miss Wagner yapped. Then all of Asa’s carefully laid plans would shatter like a wine bottle elbowed off a table.

He managed to hold his irritation inside until they’d reached the back side of the mercantile. Then he whirled on the girl and hissed, “Whaddaya think you’re doin’, girlie?”

Miss Wagner’s eyes widened. She zipped a quick look back and forth before aiming those big blue eyes on him again. “I . . . I don’t understand.”

“Agreein’ to be courted by the sheriff.” Although he held his volume to a near-whisper, he injected venom into his tone. Scowling fiercely, he pointed his finger directly at her face. “You’re askin’ for trouble. A man bent on courtin’ wants every minute he can steal with his intended. How you gonna keep silent ’bout your Tuesday night singin’?”

She worried her lip between her teeth, dropping her gaze to the dry grass at their feet. “I’m not sure. I don’t want to lie to him. . . .”

“Well, you sure can’t tell him the truth!” Asa’s volume raised a notch. He clenched his fists and deliberately lowered his voice. “Listen, girlie, I pay you good to work for me. Part of the reason I pay good is I demand a lot. Most important thing I expect is loyalty. An’ I don’t see how you can be loyal to me
an’
be spendin’ time with the sheriff. So you’re gonna have to decide which you’d rather have—a beau or a job.”

She stared at him, her hands wringing together. She opened her mouth as if to protest, but then she snapped it shut and nodded. Her head low, she said, “Y-yes, sir.”

That was more like it. “All right, then.” Asa waved toward the back door. “Best get inside. Mercantile’s closin’ soon, an’ my sisters’ll want your help with cleanin’ up. But right after supper you get on down to the singin’ room an’ practice.”

She lifted her head so quick he wondered that her neck didn’t pop. “Will you listen to the practice, the way you did last week?”

Asa pulled back, crunching his face. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

Miss Wagner hunched her shoulders. “I meant to ask you earlier, but we’ve not had time alone.” She whisked another glance across the empty yard as if she expected someone to jump out of the bushes at her. “Last week when I was practicing the songs you . . . you gave me, someone came down to the cellar and listened at the door. I thought it was you.”

Something began to boil in Asa’s middle. “I been too busy to sit in an’ listen to your practices.” Between sneaking to the cave at night to check his stills and bottling liquor during the day, Asa hardly had time to draw an extra breath. He leaned close, scowling. “You
sure
somebody come down?”

The girl chewed her lower lip and nodded.

Asa huffed out an aggravated breath. Couldn’t’ve been his sisters—they were too scared to go down under the ground. And Sid had been out of town, making deliveries. But he had an idea who might’ve been sneaking around, checking on the girl. He curled his hands into fists and stifled a growl. “Well, don’t you be worryin’ none. Nobody’ll bother you anymore. You just make sure you’re good an’ ready for tomorrow night. Wanna open with a rip-roarin’ show guaranteed to bring the fellas back again an’ again. Now scoot.”