Walks the Fire (39 page)

A pair of eyes peered at him from over the bale of hay. A defiant feminine voice retorted, “We’ll
starve
to death, then, ’cause we ain’t comin’ out to be sent back to New York!”

A younger voice echoed, “Yeah, we ain’t comin’ out!”

Joseph sat down in the hay. “There an echo in here?” Silence.

He tried again. “Well, I was just fixin’ to head over to Hathaway House for supper. They fixin’ fried chicken tonight. Heaps of it. Mashed potatoes too. And pie.
Ooo eee
that
Miz King, she makes good pie! Too bad you can’t come and have some.”

Silence. Finally, another defiant comment. “Ain’t no Miz King givin’ away free meals, is they? We got no money, so we ain’t gittin’ no fried chicken. ’Sides, ‘Granny Grump’ is probably waitin’ just outside with the police to haul us off anyways.”

Joseph used the same voice he had used all his life to calm frightened horses. It was smooth, low, and nearly expressionless. “Now, the way I heard tell it was this: Miz Ophelia Granwich left word with the police that if Miss Sarah Biddle and her brother Tom was found, they was to be returned to New York on the next train, unless somebody wanted ’em. Left train fare with the police. ’Course, I don’t think they’ll be needin’ that train fare, ’cause I know Miz King and Miz Hathaway, and they been lookin’ for someone to help them in their hotel. Way I figger it, that’s a good job for anybody.”

Silence. Then, a still-defiant voice tinged with desperation. “Ain’t no Miz King gonna want us. My brother’s crippled. Can’t work hard. Nobody wants us
both
—and
I ain’t leavin’ ’im! I ain’t!
”

Joseph continued to try to calm the terror in the voice. “Let’s just have a look. Can’t be that bad.” He inhaled deeply, “Mmm, think I smell that chicken fryin’ now.”

Two sets of eyes appeared over the bale of hay. Slowly, blond-headed Sarah Biddle stood up. Grasping her brother’s hand, she pulled him upright, then helped him sit on the bale of hay. She swung his legs around so that he faced Joseph, then seated herself beside him and wrapped one arm tightly around his waist.

“You holdin’ on mighty tight,” Joseph said.

Sarah nodded. “We’re together. We’re
stayin’
together. Ain’t nothin’ old Granny Grump can do about it, neither. Maybe I
will
go
back to New York. They’s a man there already offered me a job. Said I’d get to dress up real pretty too. Said I could keep Tom too—long as he stayed in the back room while I talked to my visitors.” She thrust a finely formed chin forward. “Sounds all right to me, I guess. Don’t even know why I come on that stupid train, anyhow. Folks proddin’ and pokin’ and talkin’ about us like we was slaves at some auction.”

Joseph nodded. “Guess I know what that feels like. Still, they’s worse places to live than Lincoln.”

“Guess we’ll never find out.” Sarah stood up impulsively and hauled her rotund brother up beside her. “We’ll be headin’ back, I guess. You can show us the police station.”

“Not so fast, now, young lady,” Joseph replied. “They’s plenty of time fer that. Train don’t come back till tomorrow anyway. Why don’t you two just come and eat with us?”

“Can’t. I told ya. We got no money.”

“Don’t need no money.”

Sarah looked at him suspiciously. “How’m I gonna pay if I got no money?” She clutched her brother tighter.

“You ain’t gonna pay. Lincoln has this rule. The first night in town, every visitor is entitled to a free meal at Hathaway House. City pays for it. It’s a way to get folks to stay on and try us out.”

“That the truth?”

“Swear on my freedom papers.”

Sarah considered. Tom settled the issue. “Want chitchen! Sarah, want chitchen. I’m hungry!”

“All right, then, Mister. We’ll take the free meal.”

Joseph stood up. “Just you hand me your brother, and we’ll go down.”

“No!” She stepped away from Joseph, frightened eyes wide open. “Don’t nobody touch Tom but me. You just stay back!”

Joseph held up his hands to calm her. “All right, miss. All right. I’ll back down the ladder here. You need any help, you just holler.”

Joseph descended the ladder and watched in amazement as the tiny girl wrestled her brother down the ladder, one step at a time. When his left foot hit the first rail, Joseph saw the problem. One leg was at least two inches shorter than the other. A deep scar ran from the ankle up out of sight inside his dress. Joseph decided not to notice. The trio went out and around the back of Hathaway House.

Entering the kitchen, Joseph headed off Augusta’s questions. “Miz Hathaway, this here is Sarah Biddle and her brother, Tom. They’s just visitin’ Lincoln, and I told ’em about the free meal we offer every newcomer. I remembered to tell ’em it’s only
one
free
meal. They thought they’d come tonight, if that’s all right”

Augusta winked at Jesse and entered into the play. “Why, of course, Joseph. That’ll be just fine.” Turning to Sarah, Augusta said politely, “Would you two like to wash up before supper?” Sarah shook her head, and Jesse took up a role.

“Please come this way, Miss Biddle. We’ve a room in the back here just for newcomers. It used to be my daughter LisBeth’s room, but now we use it for newcomers.” Sarah followed Jesse to LisBeth’s room. Her eyes widened as she surveyed the comfortable room, the four-poster bed with its clean, crisp pillow covers. A small washstand stood by the bed with linen towels over the bar. Jesse poured fresh water from the pitcher in her hand. She thoughtfully poured two glasses full of water. Sarah plopped Tom on the bed and Jesse left. “Supper’s ready whenever you are, Miss Biddle. Just come out to the kitchen.”

After Jesse left, Tom bounced on the bed. “Sarah… it’s so soft!” he exclaimed. “I
like
it here!”

Sarah scrubbed her face and hands and turned to wash Tom’s, careful to remove as much grime as possible. She wet her hands and tried to push his stubborn hair into place. There was a dresser opposite the washstand, and on the top of the dresser lay a lovely dresser set. Sarah inspected it carefully, turning the mirror over to look at herself. She picked up the brush and, looking over her shoulder at the open door, quickly brushed her hair.

“Well,” she said at last, “I guess we can go eat now.”

“We stayin’ here,
Sarah?” Tom asked.

“Don’t think so. Just eatin’ the free meal. Then we’ll sleep in the loft ’til the train comes tomorrow.”

“But I want to stay here!”

“Can’t stay here,” she said miserably. Then, she snapped at him to avoid any more questions. “Quit yer’ whinin’, Tom. We’re gettin’ a decent meal, ain’t we? That’s enough! Now let’s go eat!”

Sarah and Tom reappeared in the kitchen and ate massive amounts of food. Life had taught them to eat heartily when there was plenty, for tomorrow there might be nothing.

Jesse and Augusta left the children to Joseph’s attentions, busying themselves with serving the boarders in the dining room. Sarah and Tom watched them come and go with great interest. Between gargantuan bites of chicken, Tom asked, “Them two ladies own this hotel? Are they nice? How come those people out there don’t eat all their food? You folks eat like this every night? When’s the train come tomorrow?” Joseph patiently answered each question. Sarah let him talk freely, until he asked his last question. When Tom said, “Can we stay here? You folks eat good!” Sarah elbowed him in the ribs and hissed “Shh!”

The two children sat motionless and drowsy after they had gorged on supper. When Jesse and Augusta finished their chores, Augusta settled comfortably into her chair and picked up the
Commonwealth.
Jesse
said to Sarah, “Miss Biddle, you’re welcome to stay in the room you saw—just for tonight, of course.”

“Can’t stay,” came the short reply. “Got no money. Kin we sleep in the loft?” This was directed at Joseph, who nodded yes, imploring Jesse with his eyes.

“Well, now, Miss Biddle, I appreciate the problem of no money. I’ve been without money lots of times myself. Would you be able to do a little work in return for your use of the room tonight?”

Sarah looked suspicious again. “What kind of work you need done?”

Jesse looked at Joseph. “Well, I’m sure Mr. Freeman could use help feeding the horses tonight. And he usually brings in firewood for the stove. Perhaps you could help him do that.”

Sarah hopped down energetically. “Be glad to. I like horses!”

Sarah reached for Tom.

“Oh, it’s all right, Miss Biddle. Tom can stay here with us.”

Sarah clutched Tom’s sleeve. “No! Tom stays with me!”

Tom started awake and rubbed his eyes. “Tired, Sarah. Tom’s tired. Wanna go bed.”

Jesse laid her hand on the tousled hair and gently stroked. “How about if we put him to bed? Then you can go help Joseph with the chores.”

Sarah considered. “You mean in there?” she pointed to LisBeth’s room.

“Yes.”

“Can I put ’im to bed?”

“Of course.”

“And you won’t take him nowhere while I’m gone?”

“Sarah, I would
never, never
take a brother away from his sister. Families are important. Families should stay together.”

She knelt down by Sarah and Tom. “You’re a very good sister to care so much for Tom. Come on, let’s put him to bed.”

Sarah felt something inside let go. Something that was wound tight inside her. It wasn’t enough to let her cry all the tears she’d been storing up for the last fourteen years, but it was enough for her to feel that perhaps—just perhaps—there were people in the world you could trust, after all.

She picked Tom up and carried him into LisBeth’s bed, where he fell instantly asleep, cuddled up to the down pillow. Sighing happily, he didn’t even know that Sarah left to do her chores—or that she returned to slip into the nightgown Jesse loaned her and to slide in beside him. When Jesse looked in to check on them before turning in, Sarah lay on her side, the hem of Tom’s shirt clutched tightly in one hand.

Sarah sat bolt upright in bed at the sound of the train whistle. Shaking Tom vigorously, she shouted, “Tom! Tom! Wake up! Train’s comin’!”

Jesse and Augusta heard the commotion and hurried into the room. “We have several trains come through Lincoln every day. The train to New York won’t be back until this afternoon. It’s all right—calm down!”

Tom snuggled happily down under the coverlet again. But Sarah pulled the covers back. “Don’t matter, Tom. Morning’s come. We gotta be outta here. Where’s my clothes?” Sarah demanded.

Jesse answered, “Out in the kitchen by the stove. We washed them after you went to sleep. We didn’t think you’d mind.” As Jesse explained, Augusta handed over the clean clothes she had retrieved from the drying rack by the stove.

Augusta interrupted. “Sarah—Miss Biddle—we’d like to ask you something. Please come out to the kitchen after you’re dressed.”

Sarah entered the kitchen where Jesse and Augusta sat drinking coffee, looking relaxed. Sarah was wary. “You wanted somethin?”

Jesse had been elected to speak. “You’re gentler than I am, Jesse,” Augusta had said. “I’m too prickly. Takes a while to warm up to me. You can say it better—you talk.” Augusta dabbed at her eyes. “Those children must never go back to New York! After I heard what Joseph said they were headed for…”

“Please, Sarah—if I may call you Sarah—please, sit down.”

“I’ll stand, thank you.” She was not to be easily won over.

“Augusta and I own this hotel together. Until recently, my daughter, LisBeth, lived here. She’s married now, and we need help. We placed an ad in the paper, but it just appeared today, and we’ve had no response. Would you take the job?”

Jesse rushed ahead. “You’d be taking on LisBeth’s duties. That means helping us cook, clean rooms, garden—whatever’s required. We could give you room and board and…”

“What about Tom?” Sarah did not let Jesse finish.

“Tom can stay here too.”

Sarah stared at them, unbelieving. “Tom’s crippled. Can’t work much.”

“We know.”

“Why you want him, then?”

The specter of a little mound of stones receding into the distance rose in Jesse’s mind. She answered honestly. “When I was very young, I lost a little boy almost Tom’s age. His name was Jacob. If you stay, and Tom stays, then it’ll be just like God giving me my little boy back. I’ll get a second chance to have a little boy.”

Sarah squinted hard at Jesse’s face. “What happened to your little boy?”

“He fell under the wheels of our wagon. It ran over him.”

Sarah’s eyes grew wide and she whispered, “Tom was runned over by a wagon too. Only he didn’t die. It hurt his leg real bad. He ain’t never walked right since.”

Jesse blinked back tears. Augusta spoke up. “I’m not so gentle talking as Jesse, but I’d like to have you stay, too. You
and
Tom
.
”

Sarah surveyed the kitchen. She drove her bargain hard. “Can we have that room?”

“That’s part of the deal.”

“Will you leave the bed in it?”

Jesse fought back a smile. “Of course. It would be your bed. Yours and Tom’s. Although we might want Joseph to build a trundle to slide underneath for Tom. That way you could each have your own bed.”

Her own bed represented more wealth than Sarah had ever hoped for. It sealed the deal. “We’ll stay,” she said matter-of-factly. “What you want me to do first?”

“First,” Jesse said softly, “let Tom sleep a little longer. Second, come with me and I’ll show you the hotel and teach you some of the things we do as we go through the rooms.”

Augusta started up the stove while Jesse walked Sarah through the house, showing her the dining room, the west wing, and Augusta’s quarters. “We’d like to add on, but we’d need to hire more help. So we’re not sure what to do. For the moment, we’re just going to stay small. We’re not getting any younger.”

“You ain’t so old, ma’am,” said Sarah. “Yer wrinkled some, but yer hair’s not all white yet. You took those stairs real good. You ain’t so old.” Jesse stifled a laugh, cleared her throat, and thanked Sarah for the compliment.

Back in the kitchen, Augusta found that Sarah knew a lot about kitchens and nothing about dining rooms. “She’ll have to help behind the scenes for a while,” Augusta advised Jesse later in the day. “Can you handle the dining room alone?”