Sarah staggered to her feet. “His—his—wife?” she stuttered, unable to grasp what Gus was saying. The stinging pain of her stepfather’s slap went unheeded. She stumbled to the crude table and leaned against it, breathing hard. This can’t be happening. Please, God, let it all be a bad dream.
Tice Edwards quickly joined Sarah. “If I may?” he offered, pulling out a chair. His silken words flowed over Sarah like sweet, sticky honey.
She shivered and closed her eyes then crumpled into the chair. She buried her head in her arms and fought against the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. Hot tears sprang to her eyes, but she forced them back. This is not a crying matter, Sarah told herself fiercely. I must think. I must get control of myself.
A whimper brought Sarah’s head up. Timmy stood at the end of the table, biting his lip. His light brown hair curled around his ears and fell into his wide, dark eyes. His hands were thrust into the pockets of his overalls, and he sniffled. When Sarah caught his gaze, he blinked hard and whispered, “Sarah?”
Her heart softened at the uncertainty on the little boy’s face. But before she could respond to him, Gus barked, “Get outside—all of you. Don’t come in till I tell you.”
“I want Sarah,” Timmy pleaded. He’d swiftly changed from the screaming, fighting little tiger of a few minutes ago to a scared child in need of a hug. No matter how irritated Sarah found herself at the antics of Gus’s children, it was clear Timmy knew where he could find shelter during his father’s many angry storms. He reached for her in spite of his father’s order.
“Git, I told you!” Gus took a swipe at Timmy, but the boy was too quick. He ducked under Gus’s arm and scampered outdoors with a frightened yelp. The other children had already disappeared through the door, away from their father’s rotten temper and heavy hand.
Sarah heard the harsh teasing of the older boys and Timmy’s sobbing through the open door. She clenched her fists. She wanted to rush outside and gather Timmy into her arms. Of Gus’s four children, Timmy was the sensitive one, the child who had known Sarah’s mother as his only mother and Sarah as his real sister. When he wasn’t being influenced for evil by his older siblings, he was a loving little boy.
The brush of Tice’s hand across the braid on the top of Sarah’s head brought her around. She shook herself free of his touch and stood. She looked up, gripped the edge of the table to steady herself, and took a deep breath. Ice tinkled in her voice as she said, “I will not marry you, Mr. Edwards.”
Gus lurched forward, hand raised, but Tice motioned him away with a curt wave. “No more of that, Gus. I don’t want my future wife marred for her wedding day.” He gave Sarah a rueful smile. “I’m sorry the arrangements are not to your liking, Miss Stoddard—”
“Anderson,” Sarah corrected between clenched teeth.
Tice bowed. “My mistake, Miss Anderson. I apologize. I regret I haven’t made a good impression on you, but contrary to what your stepfather told you earlier, you have made a good first impression on me.” He grinned. “Actually, a second impression.”
Sarah’s stomach lurched. “I’ve never seen you before. How could I have made any impression on you?”
“You’d better explain it to her, Gus,” Tice suggested quietly. He waved toward the chair Sarah had recently vacated. “Please sit down.”
Sarah sat. Her palms turned clammy. She rubbed them against her skirt and then clenched them in her lap. She kept her expression stony when she turned to face her stepfather, dreading and fearing what he would say.
Gus sauntered over to the cookstove and peered into the speckled enamel coffeepot. He grunted, poured himself a cup of the steaming brew, crossed the room, and plunked himself down into an overstuffed armchair that had seen better days. “Well now, Sarah, the truth of the matter is this: My friend Tice has had his eye on you for quite some time. He saw you one day down by the docks and decided you were the girl for him. O’course, that was a few years back, but I promised I’d make arrangements for your—betrothal—as soon as an opportunity presented itself.” He paused and looked at her over the rim of his coffee cup.
Sarah saw in Gus’s steely eyes the truth of the past three years. He had used her mother from the very beginning—used her as nothing more than a slave. He had run her ragged taking care of his four kids and trying to keep everyone fed. He took, took, took and never returned a shred of decency, never regarded Virginia Anderson Stoddard as the companion and confidante that God intended a wife should be to her husband. Now Gus planned to use her, too. But why would he be willing to have her marry Tice and leave his children without anyone to care for them?
An ugly thought sprang to life in Sarah’s head, and she leaped to her feet. Money. It’s got to have something to do with money.
Disgust permeated her. It blotted out fear. Slow, hot rage slowly worked its way from the pit of her belly to the roots of her strawberry blond, braided coronet. “You waited until my mother died,” she lashed out in sudden realization. “She never would have stood for this, you—you—swine; I despise you!”
Sarah’s outburst brought a bark of laughter from Tice. “Yes sir, Gus. I like her. She’s got spirit. I’ve had more than my share of clinging, simpering females over the years. Your girl will be a welcome diversion. I’ll be proud to stroll with her along the deck of the River Queen and show her off to all those luckless gentlemen who missed such a catch.”
The gumption inherited from her strong Scandinavian father now served her in good stead. She drew herself up to her full five-feet, four-inch height, raised her chin, and slowly paid out words like a miser pays out gold. “I already told you, Mr. Edwards: I will not marry you—ever.” Sarah felt stronger now. Her angry response to Gus had helped her gather her wits and prepare for battle. It was a battle—one she dared not lose. She took a few steps toward the ladder that led to her attic sanctuary. “If you will excuse me, I’m tired.” She nodded at Tice. “I could say it was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Edwards, but it wasn’t. Good evening.”
Gus lurched from his chair and hurled his half-empty coffee cup across the room. It slammed into the ladder steps, inches from Sarah’s face. Dark brown liquid splattered her skirt. She froze. “You stay put and hear us out, girl.” Gus’s eyes blazed. “Your playacting and putting on fancy airs won’t get you anywhere.” He caught Sarah by the wrist and gave it a painful twist.
“Gus,” Tice protested, “that’s enough.”
Gus ignored the warning. With a practiced hand he maneuvered Sarah toward the overstuffed chair and forced her to sit. Then he shook a bony finger in her face. “The fact is, missy, you’ve belonged to Tice Edwards for some time,” he gloated. “Your signature on the marriage papers is all that remains to make it legal.”
Sarah opened her mouth to protest, but the sudden, desperate look on Gus’s face made her close it again.
“Perhaps I should continue, Gus,” Tice broke in. “Miss Anderson, you are overwrought.” He crossed the room and knelt down beside the armchair. “You must forgive your stepfather, Sarah, my dear. He’s been under quite a strain the past two years. Gus owes me money—a lot of money. He’s accumulated quite a gambling debt aboard the River Queen. I should have tossed him overboard long ago, but…” He allowed his gaze to linger on Sarah’s face. “He assured me his collateral was worth allowing him a chance to win his losses back.” Tice sighed. “Unfortunately Gus is not an especially good gambler. His losses keep piling up. The good news is that when you become my wife, I will cancel all debts against him. In addition, as my father-in-law, he will have the privilege of gambling as often and for as much as he likes aboard the Queen. Your brothers and sister need never worry about going hungry again.” He grinned. “They could stay on board ship if they liked.”
“They’re not my brothers and sister,” Sarah choked out. It was a stupid thing to say. But she could think of nothing else—not while her heart was slamming against her chest like a mighty fist and her stomach threatened to empty itself. The look in Tice Edwards’s eyes reminded her of a reptile’s eyes, a reptile waiting to strike its prey.
Tice smiled and patted her hand. “You may leave the children here, if you wish. It is immaterial to me where they live, my dear.”
Sarah snatched her hand away and sent a shriveling glance at her stepfather. “This can’t be legal. You can’t force me to marry this—this—snake! I’ll go to the police. I’ll tell them, tell them—”
“Tell them what, Sarah?” Tice stood and smiled down at her. “That your legal guardian—under whose authority you must remain until you are eighteen years of age—has made a perfectly good marriage contract for you? I am more than qualified for the position of a caring husband. I can provide not only for you but also for your entire family. I am one of the most prominent men of this city. The police would laugh at your foolish talk and send you home.” Tice grinned. “Trust me. I know. The chief of police is one of my regulars aboard the Queen.”
Sarah ignored his remarks and focused on what he’d said earlier. “What do you mean, my legal guardian? That’s rubbish. My real father is dead, and Gus is nothing more than a poor excuse for a stand-in.”
Tice raised a sardonic eyebrow. “An attorney friend of mine and I helped arrange the matter of guardianship papers a little over a year ago.” He turned to Gus. “You never told her?”
“Must’ve slipped my mind.” Gus ambled over to the cookstove and poured himself a second cup of coffee. Then he looked at Sarah and smirked. “Sorry.”
Sarah tried to absorb this new and unwelcome news. It was no use. Instead she did what she had promised herself she would not do in front of these men—she curled into a small ball in the depths of the armchair and burst into uncontrollable sobs.
When no more tears fell, Sarah rubbed her eyes and looked around. The cabin lay empty and quiet. She heard nothing except an occasional cockroach skittering across the wooden floor on its nightly round of foraging. The three small lamps that provided light burned low, casting the room into deep shadows. Sarah shivered. Where was Gus? Where were the children?
“Who cares?” she said, rising from the chair. For the first time since her mother had taken sick, Sarah was alone in the cottage. She crossed to the stove and checked the fire. Several coals still burned a dull red. Sarah quickly tossed a few sticks of firewood onto the bed of coals, fanned them to life, and slammed the door shut. She settled the coffeepot over the hottest spot, opened the lid, and peeked inside. There was enough for another cup. Good! She needed a hot, strong cup of coffee to sharpen her wits.
Her stomach rumbled, and Sarah remembered she’d eaten nothing since breakfast. She glanced over at the crude table, but not one biscuit remained of the batch she’d made for Timmy and Ellie. Had it been only a few short hours ago that she’d tossed the food on the table and fled to her attic refuge? It seemed like a century since she’d bade her mother good-bye that morning. Nothing seemed real. How could her life suddenly turn so much worse in just one day? She’d thought there could be no more terrible fate than drudging for Gus. Now she knew better. Being married to a man she did not love, a man like Tice Edwards, was even worse than being a servant in her stepfather’s house. Infinitely worse!