Sadie Adler

Sadie drummed her fingers lightly on the edge of her glass, the rhythmic tap blending into the background hum of the saloon. It was a habit more than anything, something to do while her mind wandered. She wasn’t the kind to sit still easy, but for the moment, she’d managed to settle herself, anchored by the warm burn of the whiskey and the dull noise of other folks’ business.

The bar creaked softly as she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. She caught a whiff of stew being served to a table across the room, the scent mingling with the ever-present tang of spilled beer and tobacco smoke. Her stomach gave a faint protest, but she ignored it. She wasn’t here to eat. Didn’t mean the smell didn’t tempt her a bit, though.

Her eyes tracked the bartender as he moved back and forth, busying himself with the little tasks that kept a saloon running. He didn’t look her way this time, probably still trying to figure her out. Most folks who didn’t know better thought the best way to handle her was to leave her be, and hell, they were mostly right. Still, she caught herself watching him longer than she meant to, her mind idly wandering back to the last barkeep who’d made the mistake of getting too chatty. That poor bastard was still probably trying to piece together what he’d done to get her so riled.

Her lips quirked into a faint smile at the memory, though it faded just as quickly.

Across the room, one of the card players slapped his hand on the table and let out a whoop. “Read ’em and weep, boys!” he crowed, his voice cutting through the low murmur of the saloon. His companions groaned in unison, throwing down their cards with exaggerated disgust.

Sadie smirked to herself, shaking her head slightly. “Damn fools,” she muttered under her breath, though there wasn’t any real venom in it. It wasn’t like she had room to talk. She’d had her fair share of bad hands, in cards and otherwise.

The bartender wandered past again, his tray now laden with empty glasses. Sadie glanced up at him, catching the faint sheen of sweat on his brow. He was working harder than most saloon boys she’d seen—probably trying to make a good impression on whoever was paying him. She thought about saying something, maybe asking him how much he had to put up with in this place, but she stopped herself. What was the point?

Instead, she tipped her glass back, draining the last of the whiskey. The burn had dulled now, leaving a pleasant warmth that spread through her chest. She rolled her shoulders, easing the stiffness that always seemed to creep in when she stayed in one place too long.

The saloon doors swung open behind her, letting in a brief rush of cooler air and the sound of boots on the boardwalk. Sadie didn’t bother to look back; it wasn’t her business, not unless it made itself her business. For now, she was content to sit here, her glass empty and her mind as close to quiet as it ever got.

“Another?” the bartender asked as he passed her again, his voice cautious but not unfriendly.

Sadie considered for a moment, then shook her head. “Nah,” she drawled, pushing the glass toward him. “I’ll take the rest of my peace sober.”

He gave her a quick nod and moved along, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She stayed there a moment longer, letting the noise of the saloon wash over her. It wasn’t much, this place, but it was enough for now. Enough to keep her still, just for a little while longer.