Red House Blues by sallie tierney Read Free Book Online Page A

was crowded with travelers and baggage and boxes. Porters
were loading wagons pulled up at the side of the brick street. At
the edge of the crowd stood a squat, ugly man in dusty black suit
holding a sign. At first Tess didn’t notice him but as she searched
for the one person she thought to see, the letters on the sign
finally registered in her mind. Miss T. Jones. The ugly little man
was waiting for her. Reluctantly she approached him.
    “Excuse me. I am Miss Tessa Jones. I assume
you are here to meet me.”
    “I’m Howard Ash. Doctor by profession, but
people call me Doc. Mr. Broadrick asked me to get you settled in
lodgings he arranged for you up the hill. I’ve got a wagon right
over there.”
    Tess wondered if he was a horse doctor. He
certainly didn’t look like any physician she’d ever seen. “Doc”
indicated a two-horse buckboard wagon, more appropriate for hauling
sacks of feed than young ladies.
    “I expected Mr. Broadrick to meet me.” She
wasn’t sure she wanted to trust this strange man.
    “He’s in Portland on business," he said as
he picked up her suitcase and started toward the wagon. What could
she do but follow? It took a few minutes for him to heft her
suitcase and steamer trunk into the back of the wagon. Tess
scrambled up to the driver’s bench without help. Not that any was
offered. Doc Ash reined the team into a brisk walk, almost jolting
her off the box.
    The boarding house turned out to be a short
six blocks up the hill from the station. The first thing Tess
noticed about the house on Fir Street was it garish deep red color.
There must be a mistake, she thought. It looked like a house of ill
repute. Surely not!
    But her misgivings proved to be unfounded.
The landlady was a pleasant, motherly woman named Mrs. Jacobs. She
welcomed Tess with a tour of her boarding house, then settled her
in a bright cheery room at the top of the stairs.
    “I serve supper at six but if you’re hungry
there’s soup left over from lunch still hot on the stove.” said
Mrs. Jacobs.
    Suddenly Tess was famished. As well as
exhausted and disappointed.
    “Mrs. Jacobs, did Mr. Broadrick leave any
message for me? I had expected he would want to be here for my
opening at his theater. Frankly, I’m rather confused.”
    “Don’t know anything about a message. Doc
will be by tomorrow to take you to the theater. Mr. Broadrick asked
him to show you around.”
    Mrs. Jacobs went downstairs, leaving Tess to
unpack her clothing and get settled into her room. It was a nice
enough room and she saw that the window overlooked a pretty garden.
Far beyond the garden Tess could see a crescent of harbor. Jamison
Broadrick had found her comfortable lodgings. Perhaps, she thought,
that thoughtfulness reflected his feelings for her. At least if he
couldn’t be there when she arrived, he had provided for her.
    Broadrick’s Madison Street Theater was
magnificent on opening night, a palace dripping with gilt
embellishments, crystal chandeliers, and lavish velvet draperies.
The packed theater greeted Tess with wild enthusiasm and bouquets
of beautiful flowers. She sang as she had never sung before,
determined to live up to Mr. Broadrick’s faith in her. But as much
as she was excited and gratified by her reception, it was a
bittersweet experience. She kept glancing to the wings, praying he
would be there watching her. But he did not come to the opening.
After the performance, champagne flowed in the lobby as the cream
of Seattle society congratulated Tess Jones on her performance.
    It was dawn before Tess returned to the
boarding house on Fir. And in spite of a triumphal opening night
she shivered with loneliness, and if she could be honest, a feeling
of defeat.
    Still, she was determined not to let him
down so each night as the weeks sped by she sang her best songs and
smiled graciously as the audience gave her standing ovations and
showered her with more flowers than she imagined obtainable in
Seattle.
    Three weeks after