Colorado Dawn (48 page)

A small orchestra played from the pit in front of the stage, and a swarm of conversation buzzed as people found their seats.

Jesse took the chair next to Silas. “I’m glad you could come tonight. I worry about you.”

Silas started and drew his attention away from the decor. “Me? Whatever for?”

Jesse’s bushy white eyebrows lowered. “I think you’re working too hard. You already pile a lot of the load on yourself, and on top of that, we’ve got this visit from the district office coming up.”

The coils that wrapped around his windpipe every time he thought about the performance review tightened, and Silas had to force himself to relax. “I’m the pastor. That goes along with the job. If I don’t do it, nobody else will.”

“You see, that’s where you’re wrong.” Jesse leaned to the side as Matilda, on the other side of him, shifted in her chair to speak to Sam and Ellie behind her. “You’ve got to delegate more. You’re preaching, teaching Sunday school, not to mention taking the church boys on outings, doing repairs around the church, and last week, didn’t I catch you with a mop and a bucket sluicing down the front steps?”

“Well yes, but—”

“No buts. Add that to your visitation, leading the singing, directing board meetings, and lending a hand wherever you see a fellow in need, and you’re doing too much. You’ll get stretched so thin you’ll wear through.” Solicitude laced his words and colored his eyes.

“Jesse, I do appreciate the concern, but all those things need doing. I can’t just tell the sick folks I won’t come see them, and I can’t expect anyone else to stand up in the pulpit for me.” He spread his hands.

Jesse grunted and crossed his arms. “Maybe not, but there are a lot of things you do that someone else could do for you. You have elders and deacons. You need to delegate.”

“I do. Bernice and Matilda are overseeing the orphanage project.”

“And how much oversight will you have? You’ll be following up after them to make sure things are going smoothly and getting done, which is just as much work as doing it yourself. It’s time you let go and let others have the joy of serving. You delegate, but then you wind up spending as much time or energy—or even more—on checking up after folks than if you’d done the task yourself.”

Matilda leaned forward. “Jesse, is this really the time to chastise Silas? I thought we invited him out to get him away from work.”

Sheepishly Jesse patted her hand. “Of course, dear. Silas, she’s right. We brought you here so you could relax, and what do I do but bend your ear with shoptalk?”

Karen tapped Silas on the shoulder and handed him a playbill. “
Jane Eyre
is one of my favorite novels. I’m so glad we get to see a performance, though I can’t imagine how they can fit it all in. The book is so big it would make a great doorstop. I hear the actress playing Jane is fabulous.”

Silas took the playbill, but his thoughts tumbled over what Jesse had said. Was he failing to delegate? Did his elders think he didn’t trust them to do their jobs? As always, his analytical mind picked up advice or criticism and turned it over and over, studying, weighing, evaluating. Would any of these things surface in the reports to the home office?

Flipping the program face up, his heart somersaulted. Willow’s beautiful gray eyes looked at him, and her name blazed an inch-high just under the name of the play. Willow Starr as Jane Eyre. Of course! That’s where he’d heard of her.

He read every word of the playbill, even the advertisements, then carefully folded the program so her picture wouldn’t be creased and tucked the pages into his suit coat just over his heart. He tried to remind himself he was a grown man and should have better control of his faculties, but his pulse leaped and his mind raced at the thought of seeing her on the stage tonight. All thoughts of church and responsibilities and delegating fled.

Thankfully the Mackenzies weren’t given to chatting during the play, because Silas wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on anything they were saying. From the moment Willow stepped into the glow from the footlights, he was completely captivated. She was nothing short of magnificent. Graceful, appealing, gentle, and yet powerful; she mesmerized him.

Only one thing jarred him throughout the performance, and heat swirled through his ears, and his chest got prickly tight when he realized it. Jane Eyre was in love with Edward Rochester. And Willow played the part perfectly. When the actor portraying Rochester took Willow into his arms, it was all Silas could do not to leap over the balcony onto the stage and rip the man’s hands away. He shifted in his seat, tried to relax the grip he had on his knees, and told himself he was being foolish in the extreme.

When the curtain came down on the last act, Silas found himself standing, clapping until his hands stung. The house lights went up as the actors came onto the stage to receive their applause from an appreciative audience. Men in the cheaper seats whistled and stomped. Some threw their hats into the air.

Silas had eyes only for Willow. The footlights picked out the pretty flush on her cheeks and shone in her eyes. He braced his thighs on the half wall in front of him and clapped and clapped.

She looked up, went still, and put out her hand to shade herself from the bright footlights. Her eyes met his and locked. One of the lines from the play came back to him, about an invisible cord strung between two hearts. A week ago he would’ve scoffed at such an idea. Too fanciful for a grown man. And yet it was as if a warm, golden, vibrating strand connected them. Everything around him disappeared, and there was only Willow. She seemed to feel it, too, for she stood perfectly still, staring up at him.

Jesse clapped him on the shoulder, breaking the spell. “That was something. And there’s more. We’ve been invited to meet the cast at a little reception at the hotel next door.”

Silas couldn’t stop grinning. And he couldn’t wait to tell Willow how amazing he thought she was.

“You were rather uninspiring tonight.” Francine Starr wiped the heavy color from her lips. “I can’t think what got into you. Clement must be out of his mind to keep you in the lead role. I’m only glad Mother isn’t here to see what’s become of all those acting lessons she paid for.” She sighed and dipped her fingers into a rouge pot.

Willow, pinning up her heavy brown hair, met Francine’s eyes in her mirror and gave in to the rebellion flickering in her middle. “You should never be glad Mother isn’t here. Anyway, the audience seemed to like my performance well enough.” One in particular. Just the memory of the pleasure and pride on Silas’s face was enough to make her breath hitch and cause her to feel reckless. Though she was glad she hadn’t known he was in the audience during the play or it might’ve made her too nervous to remember her lines.

“This ignorant audience doesn’t know sic ’em from come ’ere about acting. They’d applaud if you walked on stage and recited the state capitals.” Yanking on her gloves and shoving her rings onto her fingers, Francine glared. “What else can you expect from a backwater place like Martin City? Unschooled laborers and artistic cretins. I should be in New York or San Francisco, not stuck here playing bit parts in a nowhere town.”

The spark of rebellion against her sister’s tirades fanned into a candle flame. “Have you spoken to Clement about this? Perhaps he’d let you out of your contract.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Me clearing out and leaving the way open for you to take all the starring roles?” Francine pushed herself up from the dressing table and loomed over Willow. “I intend to regain my leading lady status, and I’ll do it with
this
company. Clement Nielson will see reason, or he might find himself without a job. He has risen to his current position on the Starr family’s shoulders. First Mother, then me. Without that cache, he wouldn’t be able to get a directing job in a two-bit minstrel show. Everyone in this cast knows I should be playing the lead, and if I so much as snap my fingers, there will be a revolt.” Her eyes bored into Willow. “I could shut down this show in a trice.”

What she said was true. Most of the performers knew Francine’s good side was the safest place to be, and she’d been the leading female since Mother died so suddenly almost five years ago. If Francine wanted to make things difficult, she could, and most of the cast would side with her out of a sense of self-preservation.

And if Francine sailed into the party in her current temper, more heads would roll than during the French Revolution, but before Willow could pour some oil on the water of her sister’s wrath, Francine swept out of the room, slamming the door in her wake. “Don’t be late!” This parting shot came through the flimsy door, followed by the angry tapping of footsteps heading down the hall.

Willow checked her appearance one last time, twisting the curl lying on her shoulder and straightening her necklace. Guilt rose up and snarled with the feeling that she was trapped in a situation she could never change. Francine would
never
change.

Lord, forgive me for baiting her. Please help me to be patient, not to return her sharp words. And Lord, I’d really love it if he was at the reception tonight
.

Was it wrong to pray that Silas would come to the reception? She didn’t know but hoped God didn’t think so.

Silas had been in the best box in the house, so he must have some money or influence in this town. Surely he’d been invited to tonight’s reception.

A light rap sounded on the door. “Willow, are you ready?” Clement.

She opened the door and smiled. “All set. Is there going to be a big crowd tonight?”

“Not too big. Nothing like it was opening night.” He tucked her hand into his arm. “Before we go in, I’ve gathered the cast together for a special announcement.” Leading her toward the stage, his eyes picked up the light from the wall lamps and magnified it. His step was jaunty, and a smile played under his precise mustache. They reached the stage where the actors and actresses clustered.

“Really, Clement.” Francine’s voice pierced the conversations around her and brought them to a halt. “Is now the best time for this? We’ve got people waiting at the hotel.”

“I won’t take long, and I think you’ll all want to hear this.” He removed Willow’s hand from his elbow but kept hold of her fingers. “I’ve received word of a wonderful opportunity. A tremendous offer has been made to this troupe to appear at the Union Station Theater in New York City for the summer production of
Romeo and Juliet
.” He swung Willow’s hand and rocked onto the balls of his feet, beaming. “A twelve-week run in New York City.”

A jolt went through the crowd, and eyes lit up. Smiles abounded, and everyone spoke at once. Francine stood front and center, biting her bottom lip, her eyes sparkling more than the diamonds at her throat. “
Romeo and Juliet
? New York City. Oh Clement, that’s wonderful. I can’t wait. I wish we were already finished here so we could leave right now.” She spread her arms wide and twirled in a circle. “And at the Union Station Theater.”

It was moments like these Willow treasured, when Francine forgot to be haughty or petty and let her natural love of life burst through. Her large green eyes shone, and her porcelain skin glowed with life and excitement. This was the sister Willow remembered best from her childhood, before Mother died, before Francine became consumed with taking her place in the acting troupe. Before the ten-year age gap between them began to dwindle in significance.

“I’m going to be a wonderful Juliet.” Francine clasped her hands under her chin and fluttered her lashes. “ ‘O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?’ ”

Clement cleared his throat. “Actually, Francine, the offer stipulates that Willow be cast as Juliet. They’ve read the early reviews, and one of the theater representatives was in Denver last month to see the final performance we had there. They were very taken with Willow and want her in New York as soon as possible.”

A fountain of warm pleasure bubbled up in Willow’s chest. “Really?” Her mind whirled with the possibilities. To play Juliet in New York City. It didn’t get any better than that for an actress.

“What?” Francine’s incredulous voice silenced conversation and sucked the warmth out of Willow. “You’re jesting, aren’t you?”

“I’m not.” Clement’s voice held a bit of steel. “The offer is very specific. They want Willow in the lead role. Without her consent, the offer is void. Everything hinges on her.”

Willow blinked. “They want me? For Juliet?”

A calculating expression flitted across Francine’s face before she assumed a smile. “Willow, what an honor. I’m so happy for you.” She came forward, gripped Willow’s upper arms, and kissed the air beside her cheek. Willow held in a wince at the fierceness of Francine’s hold and tried not to shiver at the brittleness in her eyes. They would talk about this later for sure.

Clement continued. “Let’s get over to the reception before our guests wonder what’s become of us. And for the moment, I would suggest we keep all this under wraps until the contracts are signed.” He motioned toward the front doors but held Willow back when she lifted her hem to go. Francine threw a look back over her shoulder, but Clement waved her on. When they were alone, he rubbed his chin. “You need to consider getting an agent or manager to see to your career.”