Page 13 of An Artful Dodge
“Why?” I asked again.
“Because.” The river breeze blew strands of her fair hair into her face, and she tucked it behind her ears. “I want you to have some fun. You deserve to.”
“I suppose,” I said dubiously.
A slow smile dimpled her cheek, and she gave a sly sideways look. “I’m going to fix your hair. Come on.” She nipped her hand through my elbow and tugged. I groaned and made a show of rolling my eyes but let her drag me back to our room.
Mary wasn’t there, and Sarah pushed me into our one chair, then rustled through the drawers and took out a comb and brush, pins, and Mary’s hand mirror. She brushed my hair until the knots from the wind were gone and the curls fell almost straight, then set to work, tugging and pinning. I tried not to wince.
When she finished, she handed me the mirror. “See? It’s pretty.”
I turned my head to one side and then the other to see the brown braids and coils. “It is,” I said. “Who taught you?”
“Betty. She’s Miss Clara’s maid, so she practices on me.”
“Well.” I handed the mirror back. “It doesn’t quite look like me, but I like it.”
“Ilike that it’s James.”
“You do, do you?” I returned.
“He’s handsome.”
“I suppose so.”
“And he’s kind.”
Something in her voice made me swivel to look at her, wondering if Sarah fancied him herself. “What makes you say so?”
She hesitated. “Don’t scowl when I tell you this.”
“Well, that’s never a good beginning.”
Sarah sat on Mary’s empty bed to face me. “One night, when you were gone somewhere, I was coming home from the market. There were three boys at the corner by Sawyer’s shop. They were teasing me, calling me ugly and a toad.”
“Little buggers.” I knew the corner, could imagine the three of them surrounding her, not letting her pass. “Who were they?”
She shrugged. “Ben Tucker and two of his friends. I don’t remember. But James was nearby, and he grabbed Ben by his coat and pushed him against the wall. Not overly hard, mind you, like he was showing off being older and bigger, but enough to put the wind out of Ben, making him gasp and cough. James didn’t yell, just said if he ever caught them bothering me again, in any way, he’d flay them alive. They left me alone after that.”
“You never told me.” My voice held a note of accusation.
“Because I knew you’d scowl over it, like you’re doing now.”
I smoothed my expression. “When was this?”
She considered. “Around four years ago. Before he went to prison.”
“That was kind of him,” I admitted.
Sarah looked at me with perplexity. “I thought you liked him.”
“Well, we’ve always been ... friends, but he’s still a Castle man,” I replied, thinking of the calluses on his hands. “God only knows what he’s still mixed up in.”
The stuffing inside the cotton mattress ticking rustled as Sarah rose and put the comb, brush, extra pins, and mirror back in the drawer with a small sigh.
“We should go,” I said. “Mary and Sid’ll be waiting.”
It being a Sunday afternoon, the taproom was subdued. Mary was already at a table, with a pot of tea and a basket of rolls. Sid detached himself from a group of boys scrapping over a card game and joined us.
