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

opening, as she was
beginning to despair of him ever coming to see her perform, there
he was standing in the wings, more handsome than she remembered.
Tall and elegant, dressed impeccably in evening wear, his silver
hair and beard shining like moonlight. Oh, his noble face, his
presence! She felt she would faint seeing him there watching her.
As she came off stage toward him he offered her a slight bow.
    “Brilliant performance, Miss Jones. If
anything, more accomplished than Chicago," he said as he grasped
her hand and kissed her fingertips.
    She could barely breathe for wanting to
throw herself into his arms, yet horrified at the impulse
overtaking her.
    “Thank you, Mr. Broadrick. Your kindness
embarrasses me.”
    “Surely not. You merit better treatment from
me. I apologize for not being here to welcome you to Seattle.
Business frequently calls me away. Have my people treated you well
in my absence?” he asked.
    “Everyone has been kind and helpful, thank
you. It is such a pretty city and the people have been friendly. I
am so pleased you invited me to sing here.” I can’t believe I’m
babbling on like a brainless fool. He must think I’m an utter
idiot. Her face flamed. To her relief, he didn’t seem to
notice.
    “I am glad to hear you approve of our little
town. But it occurs to me you can’t have seen many of its better
amenities. Please, Miss Jones, say you will join me for a light
supper this evening. I know of a place that rivals the finest
restaurants in Chicago and has the advantage of a splendid view of
the bay.”
    “I would be honored, Mr. Broadrick.” she
managed to say without stammering.
    “And I would be honored if you would call me
Jamison. Believe me, I am the honored party, my dear,” he said.
    The next weeks exceeded her most fevered and
fervent dreams. Jamison Broadrick met her every night after her
performance. He took her to the best supper clubs the city offered.
And finally he took her to his penthouse in the Second and Terry
Building, where he toasted her with champagne and told her he loved
her. After that night they went to the penthouse every evening,
where they let passion sweep them away from all care. And each
night he either drove her back to her rooms on Fir Street or called
a cab for her, careful of her reputation. How she adored him for
his consideration, his devotion. Soon, she was sure, he would
propose to her. Soon. And she would accept of course. She
envisioned their wedding. He would build her a fine house in
Chicago. There was no need for them to remain in Seattle. She would
return home to her family as a beloved and wealthy bride.
    A week later he went to San Francisco on
business. She must understand, he told her, he had many business
interests. He would return before she was to return to Chicago. She
thought he was secretly planning to surprise her with a ring from
San Francisco.
    How could she bear a separation from
Jamison? Her body and soul ached for him. Now her misery and
longing entered her, resonating through her songs, lending her
performances more depth of emotion than she had thought possible.
Seattleites thronged to the theater to hear her. But without
Jamison there at her side her success was joyless.
    It was more than two weeks before he
returned, every minute an agony. By the time he returned she knew
she was with child. He would be so happy. They would marry
immediately. He would insist. She could hardly contain her joy
until they arrived at his penthouse, eager to tell him the
wonderful news, yet wanting to wait for the perfect moment when
they were alone. And then they were alone. And he was pouring her a
glass of champagne. She thought that any moment he would bring the
small box containing her ring from his pocket. He would place it on
her finger and kiss her.
    He spoke of his business in San Francisco,
about renovations to the theater there. He asked about her future
plans when she returned to Chicago. She replied, coyly, that she
hadn’t