Diane T. Ashley (25 page)

Clem’s advice didn’t make much sense. She’d only been trying to compliment Miss Barlow when they were first introduced. For her troubles, she’d received a sharp word and been sent to her room like a young child. Even Lily hadn’t done that to her in years. “I’m beginning to think you only see the good in people.”

Clem shook out the skirt and eyed it carefully. “You need to give Miss Fenwick a wide berth. She’ll scratch your eyes out if she thinks you’ll get in her way, especially with Rafe. She doesn’t like it if he even looks at another girl. Give him a wide berth, and she’ll leave you alone.”

“What about Mr. Hargrove?” Jasmine’s heartbeat increased, and a blush darkened her cheeks. Even thinking about him made her quiver.

“He’s a ladies’ man.” Clem put away her supplies before turning back to Jasmine. “But I can see you already know that.”

“He’s the one who first told me about the
Ophelia
and said I should meet the boat here.”

“So he got you a job. I wondered about that. Mr. Hargrove must be sweet on you. But be careful. He and Miss Barlow have been friends forever.”

“They’re not … in love?”

“I don’t think so. Maybe once a long time ago. They’re mostly friends now, although she does like to keep him close by.”

Jasmine clasped her hands in front of her, her worries easing. Vance must be in love with her. He’d spoken to the manager about her, made sure she would have a job on board. And to think she’d been miffed because he had not sought her company after the performance last night. He’d been doing something much more important—making sure she would have a reason to stay near. She was certain he’d seek her out as soon as he could.

D
avid lost a whole day because the boat he’d been planning to take north was not making a stop in Natchez. He cashed in his ticket and went looking for another berth. The docks were full of steamers, but many of them did not want to stop before getting farther north on the river. Finally he found a captain who agreed to make a short stop in Natchez before continuing. The only catch was that he would not leave that afternoon. He purchased the ticket, stowed his gear, and settled in for a long night. By the time the sun rose, he was more than ready to be active again.

Pent-up energy had him threading his way around the cargo of barrels and boxes as the side-wheeler pushed its way against the strong current. Memories of trips on the
Water Lily
clamored for David’s attention, growing more distinct with each mile traveled.

A flock of pelicans turned the sky pink above the boat, reminding him of the time Jasmine had decided to capture one for a pet. He’d had to rescue her from the swamp and drag her back to the
Water Lily
before she became a tasty meal for a passing alligator. She had pouted for days until her father helped him carve one from a piece of walnut. He still remembered the look on her face when he presented it to her. He’d felt like he was ten feet tall.

That was the day he’d known his heart belonged to Jasmine Anderson. He had hidden the knowledge from her, feeling he didn’t deserve her love. She was from a wealthy family while he had no family to speak of—only a downtrodden ma and a gold-hungry pa. Jasmine and her sisters had taken him in, given him a glimpse of what life could be like. He probably wouldn’t be a Christian if he hadn’t spent so many afternoons talking to Jasmine’s father about Jesus and the Bible.

But even now he felt separated from them, his face pressed against an impenetrable window. Like the rich man in the Bible who could only see heaven from across a chasm, he was doomed to live out his life yearning for what could never be his. The kindness Jasmine’s family offered him was more akin to affection for a pet. And now, even though he had a good job and an honorable purpose, if one of the Anderson sisters called, he came running like an obedient puppy.

They sailed past Dead Man’s Curve and docked next to a timber barge at Natchez Under-the-Hill.

“Be back by three or we’ll leave you.” The captain’s warning rang in his ears as he left the boat.

David waved at the man. “I’ll be back.” Finding a horse to rent, he headed for Les Fleurs. He noticed the charred ground on his way in and wondered if Jasmine had caused that disaster before running away.

Camellia met him at the front door, her hair an uncontrolled mass of curls around her face. The frightened look in her blue eyes told him how concerned she was about Jasmine. “Thank you for coming.” She sat in one of the rockers and motioned for him to sit next to her.

David shook his head. He would rather stand. “I don’t have long, so why don’t you tell me what happened.” David braced himself. As Camellia told him about the day Jasmine disappeared, he asked a few pertinent questions. The more he heard, the more his exasperation overcame his concern for Jasmine’s safety. She didn’t take time to think how her selfish actions would affect others. When would she ever grow up? He paced the length of the front porch. “Have you had any word since she left?”

Camellia shook her head. “I feel so guilty for what I said to her. If only I’d been more understanding or less caught up in my own needs …”

David didn’t hide his snort of disgust. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Camellia. Jasmine has no excuse for causing you all this worry. What did Lily say?”

“She doesn’t know.” The confession was a bare whisper.

“You have to tell her.” David sat next to Camellia and took her hands in his own. “Don’t worry about her response. Lily isn’t unreasonable. She’ll understand you had no control over your little sister. Besides, she loves both of you. She won’t blame you any more than I do, but she may have an idea of where Jasmine would go. And she can check for any word of her up and down the river. A lot of people know Lily and Blake. Contacting all of them and warning them to watch for Jasmine may be the easiest way of locating her.”

Camellia nodded. “I—I just don’t know what to say to her.”

“I know it’s hard, but you can do it.”

She surprised him when she pulled her hands free and stood. Even more so when she wrapped her arms around him in a fierce hug. “I’m glad you came. I know you’ll find her if anyone can.”

Her words caged him as securely as a prison cell. Before the door could lock him in, he pulled away from her. He was determined to keep his wits about him in spite of the warring desires in his heart. “I don’t have much time to devote to the search, Camellia. As soon as I leave here, I’m going to investigate a robbery at Planter’s Bank in Vicksburg.”

She gasped, and the blood drained from her face. “Oh no. My friend Jane is married to an officer of that bank, Harold Baxter. Please tell me no one was hurt.”

“I wish I could.” David hoped her connection to the man at the bank would help Camellia understand why he couldn’t devote all his time to finding Jasmine. He had to keep his priorities in order. “I don’t know any details yet. But I’ll make it a point to visit your friend and ask her to send you a note telling you more about the robbery.”

Camellia nodded slowly. Her blue eyes shone like glass. “I’m so proud of you, David. I wish you and Jas—”

“I really have to get going.” David cut her off before she could finish what she’d been about to say. No one wished for a match more than he. But Jasmine had other ideas about what to do with her life, and he had to respect her decision … no matter how ridiculous it was. “Either Mrs. Baxter or I will be in touch soon.”

“I’ll pray for both of you.”

David returned to his rented nag and rode back to Natchez Under-the-Hill, relieved to see that the captain had honored their agreement. He’d already lost enough time. He wanted to find and arrest the bank robbers and return to Chicago. He would refuse any new assignment in the lower Mississippi Valley. Spending time close to the Anderson girls was tearing his world apart. He felt like a ship foundering among the hidden snags of loyalty and devotion. One day he was liable to wash up on a sandbar—broken and abandoned by both the job he felt called to do and the woman he adored.

“You’re going to play the part of Lady Montague.” Vance Hargrove acted as though he offered her the moon.

Jasmine balanced on a stool, the gold skirt of Miss Barlow’s ballroom costume spread around her. She had been reattaching the flounce when Vance found her, a tedious task that Clem said was needed on a daily basis.

She put down the needle and tried to summon a gracious smile for his sake. But it was beyond her acting ability to hide her disappointment. Her first appearance on a real stage would be as Vance’s mother. And she knew
Romeo and Juliet
well enough to know that she would only have a line or two.

“Aren’t you excited?” The light in his dark eyes dimmed. He glanced around the prop room, his gaze searching for an ally. “Clem, tell Jasmine what a big break this is. She’ll be onstage.”

“This is a big break, Jasmine. You’ll be onstage.” Clem parroted the words from the other side of the costume trunk.

Jasmine hid a grin at her friend’s lack of intonation.

“I see how it is.” A frown marred Vance’s handsome face. “You think you’re above such a small part. I suppose you think you should take Miss Barlow’s place as Juliet.”

“I’m excited, Vance.” She tried to convey an enthusiasm for the breadcrumb he offered.

“I worked hard to get Mr. and Mrs. Easley to give you this chance.” His mouth turned down.

Her heart sank at the disappointment on his face. Vance was being sweet and thoughtful. She had no right to trample on his kindness. “I’m sorry. I suppose it’s a little overwhelming to think of going onstage so soon.”

She ignored Clem’s grunt. Clem had little respect for any of the actors. She was constantly pointing out to Jasmine the advantages of working with the production instead of reaching for fame as an actress. She might be right, but Jasmine wanted the adulation of the audience. She wanted to be sought after. She wanted her name on the playbills passed out in the town as advertisement.

Vance took her arm and pulled her off the stool. “Come with me.”

“What happened to the actress who was supposed to be playing Lady Montague?” Jasmine asked the question as they left the lower floor of the barge.

Vance led the way, his long legs taking the steps two at a time. “She’s too drunk to stand up. Mrs. Easley told her to get off the boat. So see, this is the perfect chance for you to be able to perform regularly.”

Jasmine tried to hide her surprise. A drunk actress? She’d never dreamed of rubbing elbows with women who drank alcohol. Maybe that’s why Lily had been so worried about her. But her oldest sister should know she would never do such a thing.

Vance halted suddenly and turned to face her. “Things have been hectic, but I want you to know how often I think of you, Jasmine. This is your chance, you know. Once you get on that stage, I know you’ll be on your way to stardom.”

Her bruised heart healed a little from the warmth of his words. “Thank you.” She could swallow her disappointment. Vance was doing what he could. Maybe when they left Vicksburg, he would be able to spare some time for her. Maybe then—

Her thoughts ended abruptly when Vance gripped her arms and yanked her off balance. She fell against his chest with an audible
oomph
, and before she realized what was happening, his lips covered hers. Shock kept her still for an instant, and he took full advantage, slathering her face with his wet, soft mouth. It was like being kissed by a fish. Her mind and her body reacted violently to his assault. Twisting and pushing, she forced her elbow into his stomach, gaining her freedom when he stepped back.

“Mr. Hargrove.” Jasmine put all the disdain she could manage into the two words, raising her hand to wipe the disgusting wetness from her mouth.

“I thought you felt the same for me as I do for you, Jasmine.” He tried once again to pull her close.

This time she was prepared. She stiffened her arms and shook her head. “I hold you in high esteem … but I’m not some fancy woman you met in a tavern.”

“Of course not.” He dropped his grip on her and hung his head. “Don’t you know how I feel about you? Don’t you know how your beauty—your radiant innocence—drives me mad? ‘Come live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove.’ ”

Christopher Marlowe’s poem was one she had loved as a young girl, thinking it the height of romance. But he needed to understand that she wasn’t about to let him ruin her.

Borrowing from the same poem, she answered him. “ ‘I don’t need beds of roses or a cap and kirtle.’ “With her nose in the air, she pushed past him to the stage door. Fame was awaiting her.

“Take your place upstage, Lady Montague.” Mr. Easley’s words were accompanied with a lift of his chin.

She scampered toward the back of the stage, thankful that she knew enough to understand his direction. Two other actors were center stage after the fight scene between the two families. Listening intently, she stepped forward as Benvolio ended his speech. Her heart pounded. “O, where is Romeo? Saw you him today? Right glad I am he was not at this fray.” The words flowed out of her mouth with exactly the right emphasis and tone.