Chances (26 page)

Daniel held his tongue, surprised at Sarah’s vehemence. He’d struck a nerve; he just didn’t know what the hell kind of nerve it was. “Is that her picture?”

Sarah pulled her hand away from the locket and nodded, then drew the chain that held the locket from her neck and handed it to him. He opened it to reveal a miniature painted portrait. A remarkably attractive woman gazed up at him. Her hair, like Sarah’s, was spun gold, but dressed elaborately. A jeweled amethyst comb matched her vibrant eyes. A finely tailored gown told him she was also a woman of fashion. He glanced at Sarah and closed the locket softly. “She was beautiful.”

“Her name was Hannah. She was the saddest person I’ve ever known.”

He waited but she supplied no further information. End of conversation. He changed tacks. “What about you being a telegrapher? Did you have their blessing?”

Sarah weighed the question with another swallow of beer. “Papa’s skeptical, waiting to see if I make good. With Papa, it’s never a matter of what a person does, just how well they succeed with it. Mama never knew but I think she would have been proud, maybe even a little awed.” She paused and glanced at the bar. “Could you go get us some of that blutwurst and we’ll see what it is? Maybe some pretzels?”

Definitely the end of the conversation, but he was beginning to understand some of her comments from earlier in the week. Not enough, but a beginning. Still, she’d avoided pushing at him too much and he owed her the same courtesy. “Sauerkraut?” he asked.

Sarah nodded. “More beer, too.”

Daniel worked his way to the bar. For whatever reason, being beautiful hadn’t brought happiness to Hannah Donovan, and he suspected it was at the root of that plain facade Sarah insisted on for herself. The monstrous machine wound to a halt and the band took over, their steady oom-pa-pa resounding through the hall. Daniel heaped a plate full of hearty German fare, signaled the waitress and returned to the table.

The waitress followed with four steins of beer. “You will want more beer, ja? Dat is food for two beers. You will be thirsty,
ja
, I know.” She grinned and hustled away.

Across from Sarah, Daniel slid into his chair. “She looks like she knows what she’s talking about. At least, how many beers for the amount of food,
ja
?”

A sharp giggle rose in Sarah’s throat, obviously hell-bent on running straight into the sip of beer she’d just taken. She slammed her beer stein onto the table and slapped her hand across her mouth.

Daniel’s shoulders shook. He’d forgotten to tell her the German beer was a bit stronger than the swill they’d had last night.

Sarah rolled her eyes, swallowed the beer, and stuck out her tongue.

An image of Mary, prim and proper, filled Daniel’s head.
No, Mary, let me be. I never had any fun. This is my chance. I promise, it won’t hurt anybody.
He glanced around the crowded room, caught himself in the habit, then downed half a stein of beer, raised his eyebrows, and winked at Sarah. Drawing on her wide-eyed reaction, he slurped again at the beer and issued a loud burp.

She snorted and reached for her own stein. She gulped at the beer, emitted a surprisingly loud belch, and raised her eyebrows in challenge.

Daniel tipped his head at her and chugged again. He readied himself and forced out an even louder burp.

Sarah snorted again and finished her beer. Forming her mouth into an “o”, she stretched out the sound of her belch, until it trailed off into a gasp of empty air.

They dissolved into laughter, tears filling both their eyes. “Heavens, Daniel, I don’t believe you did that.”

He shrugged and tried to ignore the pain in his side. “I don’t either. Thank God I don’t know anyone here.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I looked.” His mouth widened into a grin. “Wanna dance?”

Sarah stopped laughing. “Oh, no. Thank you, but no.”

Daniel cocked his head to one side. “Scared?”

“No.”

“If I can do what I just did, surely you ought to be able to get out there and dance. Of course, if you want to just call it quits, say I won the challenges, we can forget all about it.”

She exhaled in disbelief. “I think not.”

“Then on your feet. It’s polka time.” He stood and offered her a hand.

Sarah placed her hand in his. “Don’t say you weren’t warned.” She reached for the second stein of beer, took a gulp, and allowed Daniel to haul her to the dance floor.

“You know how to do this?” he called over the din of the accordions.

“Barely.”

“Well, all I know is what I’ve watched during the last three beers. I guarantee you’ll look better than me.” He swept her into the circling crowd, their feet hitting the ground in maddening rush of one-two-three.

She stumbled, her foot landing on his. She bit her lip and for a brief moment, Daniel thought she might cry.

“Whoa, sweetheart, that’s my move,” he called, offering her an encouraging smile.

She smiled back, tentative at first, then broader as he pulled her back into the dance.

Moments later, Daniel mis-stepped himself and jarred them both to a halt. A German couple plowed into them, sending the whole group to the floor.

The older couple stared for a moment, then burst into good-natured smiles. The men rose, extending hands to the ladies as the two gray-haired strangers spoke back and forth in rapid German. Once standing, the rotund man brushed his dusty hands across his even dustier overalls, cleared his throat and turned to Sarah.

“Ach, you come wit me, Gunther Muller. Frau Muller, Helga, goes wit him. Enough we all look like D
ummkopfs
.”

Helga grinned at Daniel, revealing a partial set of yellowed teeth, and snatched him into her powerful arms. “I lead.” Seconds later, she was steering him around the room, counting “
ein, zwei, drei
” as they stepped. She pointed at Gunther and Sarah. “Ach, your
liebekin
, she is a good
Schuler
, look how she learns.”

At the edge of the dance floor, Gunther was nodding to the count of the music, pulling Sarah along with him as he spun circles. Sarah’s feet scrambled to keep up then settled into an even but rapid pace. Daniel grinned and focused on following Helga. He should have felt every shade a fool. But he didn’t.

Helga paused, her frizzled gray head bobbing up and down with the beat of the accordions. “
Ja
, you are learning. Now, you lead.”

Daniel nodded, then took the plump woman in his arms and led her awkwardly around the floor.

Helga continued to jabber, most of her accented words mingling with the music. He caught bits and pieces, enough to realize she’d misinterpreted his relationship with Sarah.

The polka ended with them near the table and Daniel downed the last of his beer. Then, Helga pulled him back onto the dance floor, jabbering about another go-around.

Sarah and Gunther had ended up in front of the band. Sarah looked as winded as Daniel felt, but her face beamed. Gunther crossed to the stage and exchanged words with the musicians. They nodded and announced the next number.

“Now, you learn to schottische,
ja
?” Helga’s yellow teeth grinned at him. Not waiting for his response, she pulled him toward another couple and they formed a quartet, a pair in front and back, all linked together with arms and hands. “Step, step, step, hop,” Helga instructed.

Daniel heard the beat and repeated the actions. The music shifted and the others switched steps and changed positions. Daniel soloed his own step, step, step, hop, then exploded into laughter as he realized he’d been left behind.

“Step-hop, step-hop,” Helga supplied, her own laughter swallowing half the words.

Daniel lifted his feet, a giddy sense of play settling over him. He felt like a child, like the child he’d never had the chance to be.

On the other side of the dance floor, Gunther had pulled Sarah aside and was demonstrating the pattern. His heavy pot belly bounced with each step-hop. He moved aside and waved for Sarah to repeat her moves. She grimaced slightly, shrugged, then took a step. Gunther dictated the count, his finger bobbing to the music. Sarah circled by herself, her skirt held up to prevent stumbling, silly in her shuffle steps and completely ridiculous in each step-hop. Then, laughter consumed her, and Gunther escorted her back to the table. Halfway there, Sarah paused and offered the German a quick hug.

The music stopped and Daniel bowed to Helga. “Frau Muller, it has been a pleasure.”

She bobbed her head. “
Ja
, it was
gut
. Now, we get some beer,
ja
?”

“
Ja
.”

He escorted her to his table, now absent its chairs, where Sarah and Gunther stood, waiting. He knew he looked a mess, sweat dripping from his temples. But, then, everyone else was dripping, too. He grinned at Sarah, then shook Gunther’s hand. “Thank you. You and Mrs. Muller are good people.”

“
Ach
, we just didn’t want to fall no more. It’s
gut
you had some fun,
ja
? Come on, Helga, let’s get some blutwurst.” He grabbed his wife’s hand and the two drifted off to the bar.

Sarah wiped her hand across her brow and blew at the wisps of hair that had fallen from her once tidy bun. Her eyes sparkled with an abandon Daniel hadn’t seen before, a complete lack of purpose, he realized.

She caught his gaze and giggled.

“What?”

“Herr Muller thinks we’re married.”

“
Ja
?” He grinned. “Well, Frau Muller thinks we’re lovers.”

Sarah’s mouth formed a silent “oh” and her eyes grew wide.

Daniel was dimly aware of a small scuffle, two drunks shoving at each other, behind Sarah. They left his consciousness as the deep amethyst pools in her eyes pulled him in. He imagined her in his arms, bare, soft, willing. Sarah, full of abandon as she’d been on the dance floor, directing all her passion to him.

The drunks passed, knocking her off balance, and she tumbled into his arms.

“Look at this. Sarah Donovan at a loss for words.” Daniel stared down at her, tightening his hold. His heartbeat quickened and his thumb caressed the bottom of her breast. He lowered his head, his mouth meeting hers in a slow kiss of invitation as he pulled her flush against him.

Sarah arched into his arms, against the hardness of his body, making him ache with desire. Her lips opened and she drew his mouth closer, her tongue teasing at him.

Daniel nipped at her tongue, then pulled it into his own mouth. He delved into her mouth, seeking, finding, demanding.

Distant cat calls and whistles sounded from behind him, reminding him they were standing in the middle of Orchestrion Hall.

Sarah pulled out of his arms, her breath in ragged spurts, like his own, her eyes registering an odd mixture of shock and regret. “Oh, Daniel,” she whispered.

Inside Daniel’s head, Mary frowned and Ebenezer pounded on his pulpit while Sarah turned and walked out on him.

Chapter Sixteen

Sarah approached the corner of 15
^th
and Larimer, glad the afternoon was bright and sunny. Horses, buggies and people crowded the busy thoroughfare, more than a few making Joslin’s their destination.

It wasn’t really much of a day off, not with the final rehearsal of
Little Women
this morning and tonight’s performance still looming. With the remnants of a headache and last night’s loss of sleep, she should be taking a nap. But when Miss Clay had announced a shortened day of school, the children had all chattered non-stop about visiting Joslin’s Dry Goods Company.

The temptation of coconut dainties and chocolate fudge had swayed her to do the same. Today was a chocolate day, if ever there was one, and Sarah intended to drown in the sweet confections. Between Daniel and the play, she’d had all the strain she could handle and a relaxing afternoon sampling Thursday candy specials was just the ticket. She’d make her purchase, go home, and spend the afternoon getting fat.

She crossed Larimer and stepped into the busy store. Here and there, she recognized children she knew. She waved but didn’t dwell to speak with them. Instead, she made her way to the back of the store, thoughts of Daniel filling her head.

Lord, her emotions were tumbling over one another, and the jumble scared her. Last night, she’d slid from all nerves to exhilaration then somehow to raw desire. And somewhere along the line, her heart had gotten wrapped up in the mixture. And that kiss and the haunted look in Daniel’s eyes that shattered her so badly she’d left him standing there alone in Orchestrion Hall.

She wasn’t any good at this, any of it. She’d kept her deepest self bottled up for so long, she’d forgotten how to share. Besides, no good came of revealing vulnerability. She felt like a fool for losing control of the situation.

The store was crowded with bustling shoppers and she drifted among them, anonymous. A display of hats caught her eye and she imagined herself wearing one of the fancy things, birds and flowers perched on top. She smiled and dismissed the image. Silliness.

Rounding a corner, she almost ran into Kate and Molly, their brown ringlets bobbing as an enthusiastic clerk demonstrated a bright hand-painted marionette. They caught sight of her immediately.

“Oh, Miss Sarah, isn’t it something?” Molly asked.

Sarah eyed the marionette with skepticism. “It looks complicated, to me.”

“But you’re a telegrapher and your hands are used to doing complicated things.”

“I suppose they are, Molly, but it still looks pretty involved for a toy and liable to break if you use it much.”

“See, Molly? I told you it wasn’t a good purchase.” Kate crossed her arms sagely.

The clerk shrugged, set the puppet on the counter, and turned to his next customer.

Sarah glanced around, anxious to be on her way. “Well, girls, I need to get going. Where’s Mrs. Winifred?”

“Mrs. Winifred didn’t bring us,” Kate explained.

“I did.” Daniel’s familiar voice sounded behind Sarah and her heart jumped.