“Do you have any idea what such an error could cost the distillery? Even more, how it could tarnish Uncle Jack’s reputation? And the reputation of this distillery? We’re the first—and therefore, the oldest—registered distillery in the country, Josephine. Since 1866, Jack Daniel has been known for his integrity and for paying every last penny of tax due to the government. He’s never had the slightest trouble with the Bureau of Internal Revenue.”
“Dodge, I feel sick about what I’ve done.”
“But apparently not enough to have not done it. Did you even give a thought as to how this might affect me?”
“I did, in fact—”
“It’s my responsibility to make sure that ledger is accurate. And what about the rest of the employees and their families?” Anger and disbelief churned inside him.
“I didn’t change any of your entries. I changed ones with the initials GC beside them. Dodge, I thought that person no longer worked here. Then I met Gideon Cartwright last night and—” Her throat knotted tight. “I realized I couldn’t go through with it. I couldn’t do that to him. To any of you.”
He exhaled, the muscles in his jaw working. “You say you’re set on helping the wives and children of some of the men who work here, yet you do something like this that guarantees they won’t see any pay for weeks!”
“I know, I should have thought it through better. I acted out of emotion, based on someone who’s hurting terribly and—”
Dodge headed for the wagon.
She followed. “I’m going with you. I’ll explain.”
“And just how do you plan to do that? Better, I hope, than you’ve done with me.” He climbed into the wagon, and she hurried around and climbed up beside him.
Neither spoke until they reached the barrel house.
He set the brake. “Best if you wait here in the wagon.”
She jumped down alongside him, Jessie following. “I did this, Dodge. I’ll take the blame. And whatever punishment is coming.”
“Easy to say when the punishment will likely be fines you have no possible way of paying.”
She flinched, and though he regretted his harsh tone, he didn’t take back the words.
“Listen, let me find them and see where we are in the process. If Prince hasn’t reviewed the ledger yet, I’ll make some excuse to get it from him, then you and I will go back to the office and you will fix this. You remember which transactions you changed?”
“Yes,” she said softly.
“Good, then maybe we can get everything resolved without anyone else being the wiser. Anyone other than Uncle Jack, that is. He’ll have to be told.”
“I know, and I’ll tell him.” Though she rightly appeared ill at the prospect. “But Dodge, please know how sorry I am. To you . . . especially.”
He looked at her—anger and disappointment roiling inside him, and feeling more than a little betrayed. But what bothered him almost as much . . . How could he have been so blind so as not to have seen this coming. How had he missed it—a second time.
47
SEATED BEHIND HIS DESK, Mr. Daniel stared between the two of them, his gaze finally fixing on Josephine. She couldn’t decide whether he was about to fire her or send for Sheriff Rigby. Or both. The creak of a wagon passing by out front and the clomp of hooves filled the painful silence.
Dodge finally leaned forward. “Uncle Jack, while this could have gone very badly, no lasting harm has been done. At least not that the Treasury Department is privy to. I’ve corrected the ledger and it’s ready for Mr. Prince’s inspection.”
Mr. Daniel nodded. “I was right when I said that hiring a suffragist would be a risky business. Wasn’t I?”
Realizing the question was directed at her, Josephine nodded. “Yes, sir. You were. And again, I deeply apologize for trying to interfere with the—”
“When exactly did you first contemplate doing something like this?” Mr. Daniel asked.
She searched his expression. Usually she could read the man fairly well, but not at the moment. “Shortly after I left your office the day you first offered me the job.”
Dodge looked over at her, but said nothing.
“And what changed your mind about following through with your plan?” Mr. Daniel continued.