Diane T. Ashley

by Jasmine

  “If that’s not the definition of irony, I don’t know what is. To get to St. Louis we need to purchase a part from St. Louis.”

  This time his laughter joined hers.

  “Did I see someone jump off the Miss Polly?”

  David sobered. “Yes. The idiot apparently decided he’d rather take his chances in the water. He was lucky to be fished out a mile or so downriver. It’s a wonder he didn’t drown.”

  Jasmine nodded.

  Silence filled the room for several moments until Jasmine stopped working and tossed a glance at him.

  “Is something wrong?”

  A tentative smile appeared on her lips, making her look so sweet … so vulnerable. “I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

  His heart thumped. “And?”

  “You made a lot of sense, David, but I’m not sure I want to leave the Ophelia when we reach St. Louis.”

  David put a hand to his forehead. Nothing had changed. All his prayers, all his heartfelt words had meant nothing to Jasmine. Disappointment weighted his shoulders. What could he say to her?

  She forestalled his words. “Before you start in on me again, please let me explain.”

  He put his hand down, offering a silent plea to God for fortitude. “Go ahead.”

  “Angelica cannot continue acting for obvious reasons. Someone will have to replace her.” She stopped and looked at him.

  Was she waiting for his agreement? If so, she would have a long wait. He could already see where this was going.

  When he said nothing, she sighed. “You remember how I took over for her on a temporary basis when the Easleys thought her problem was overeating. My name was even on the playbill. I saved a copy as a reminder. Even if I can’t go on to Chicago or New York, at least I’ll be able to say I was a serious actress. That playbill is a memento of the time I—we—have spent on the Ophelia.”

  He shook his head. “You’re falling into a trap. Even though I’ve never received applause for what I do, the praise I get makes me feel good—it brings me pleasure. If I’m not careful, though, those good feelings begin to replace something important. I start thinking I deserve the praise. That it’s because I’m special—smarter or faster or stronger. It’s like an addictive drug. The more praise you receive, the more you want.”

  “You still don’t get it, David. It’s not so much the applause that I want to hold onto, although that is part of it. I want to remember making others happy, helping the Easleys and Tabitha, Angelica and Rafe, Clem and all the others who depend on the Ophelia for their livelihood. I want to remember spending this time with you, too.”

  David considered her words. He still thought she should go home, but he had to admire her spirit. Jasmine was maturing. She was beginning to sound like a woman he had always hoped she would become. Should he agree? If he insisted on her immediate return, would he risk destroying the bridge forming between them? A bridge that could bring them together?

  She smiled, her eyes lighting with mischief, reminding him of the girl he’d grown up adoring. “There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about. I’ve already mentioned it to Clem, and she thinks it’s a great idea.”

  “What’s that?” He let go of his concerns for the moment. He would have to pray about St. Louis.

  “Since Rafe is having to take over for Vance, we’ve struggled to find someone who can do his parts.”

  “I find that hard to believe.” David frowned. Why was she talking to him about acting problems? “Don’t you have several men in the stock company?”

  “Yes, but none of them seems quite right. Ever since the trouble in Cairo, we’ve been losing people. The ones who are left are either too inexperienced or too old. They’re not convincing, and the Easleys are worried our performances will fall short if we don’t find a strong second lead.”

  “You’re beginning to sound more like a manager than an actress.”

  She tilted her head, her violet eyes serious. “Clem said the same thing.”

  “So what will you do?” David’s heart seemed to grow wings. Perhaps he should not worry so about Jasmine’s plans. He sensed the change in her was deeper than he’d first thought.

  “I thought maybe you could join us on the barge.”

  “What?” His mouth fell open in shock. “Please tell me you’re not serious.”

  “Come on. It’ll be fun. Remember how we used to act for our friends and family back home? You already know the stories, and the lines will come back to you after a few rehearsals.” She stood and walked to him, her eyes begging for his agreement.

  When would he stop being an idiot for this woman? “What about my work on the tugboat?”

  “Don’t worry about that. The Easleys will explain to Captain Ross. He’ll have to find someone else to take over your duties.” Jasmine hugged him. “I can’t wait to tell Clem.”

  Relishing the feel of her arms around his waist, David gave in. It couldn’t be that bad, could it?

  Chapter Thirty

  Tabitha stood on a crate, only her upturned face and steepled hands showing above Juliet’s balcony. “O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name! Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I’ll no longer be a Capulet.”

  Standing in the wings in the nurse’s costume, Jasmine mouthed the familiar lines, her heart wrung once again by Shakespeare’s words. No matter how often they were repeated or who actually performed them, her imagination carried her to the Capulets’ garden.

  “You should be Juliet.” The words in David’s slow drawl sent a shiver down her spine.

  She turned in the crowded space, her elbow grazing his arm. “I doubt Tabitha would agree with you.”

  His mouth was only a breath away. Her awareness shrank until all she could see was his mouth. The memory of the night in Memphis returned to her in full force. The thrill of their lips pressed together, the strength of his hands cupping her face, the love and devotion in his gaze. The aftermath of his touch returned to her, too. She’d pushed him away, left him standing all alone. And when he’d tried to do the honorable thing and apologize to her, she had scoffed at his words, even taunting him … lying to him about Vance’s kiss.

  When he took a step back, Jasmine remembered to breathe. Fiery coals burned her cheeks. Jasmine put her hands to them, her mind skittering.

  “Are you ready for your scene?”

  “All I have to do is shout, ‘Madam!’ from the edge of the stage.” His question refocused her attention, giving her something to think about besides the past. She looked him up and down. “I never realized how long your legs were until tonight.”

  He laughed, the sound warming her heart. “Thanks. Now I feel less self-conscious about these ridiculous tights.”

  “They look fine on you, better than they did on Rafe.” She bent her head toward the stage. “You would make a better Romeo than he does.”

  “I doubt he would agree with you.” He winked at her as he paraphrased her previous answer. “Besides, Rafe seems to have grown into his new role. I think it’s because he knows his position is secure on the Ophelia.”

  “I’ll be happier once he and Angelica are safely married.”

  David glanced toward the curtain between them and the audience. “I’m sure she’s sitting out there watching to make sure he doesn’t stray.”

  “She doesn’t have to worry about that. Rafe has made it abundantly clear he loves her. He is constantly hovering over her. It would drive me crazy.”

  “You’ve always been too independent for your own good.”

  Jasmine pretended indignation. “And here I was thinking we were beginning to understand each other. I see now that you’re still clinging to your mistaken opinion of my obvious strengths.”

  “You’re wrong about that. I’ve always admired your strengths, Jasmine, even when I disagreed with your use of them.”

  “You used to like playacting with me.” She squeezed her lips into a pout. “Or at least y
ou always went along.”

  His face sobered. “That’s because I care about you. Why else would I let you talk me into donning this ridiculous costume and making a fool of myself?”

  She didn’t know what to think about his statement. Did he really still care? Even after all she’d done?

  “Jasmine, that’s your cue.” Mr. Easley hissed the warning at her.

  Already? She moved to the edge of the curtain and put a hand to her mouth. “Madam!”

  Tabitha answered her, impatience in her voice.

  “Madam!” She repeated the summons before moving back to where David stood. “That’s it for me until after your next scene.”

  When he didn’t answer, she searched his face. “You’re not still nervous are you?”

  A twist of his lips told her the truth. And she’d been teasing him. Contrite, she assumed a serious expression. “You’re doing a wonderful job. Mercutio is one of the hardest characters to portray—”

  “You’re not helping me feel much better.”

  “If you’d let me finish without interrupting.” She put her hands on her hips. “I was going to say that you’ve conveyed his scornful wit perfectly. The people out there are laughing at the right times and staying silent when they should. You have them in the palm of your hand.”

  “Don’t worry, Jasmine. You don’t have to exaggerate. I’m not about to run off and leave you in the lurch.” He touched her nose with the tip of his finger. “I’ve really enjoyed parts of the past week. Especially getting to watch all of you so serious about your art. It’s given me a new respect for the theater.”

  “It’s about time.” She was glad to hear that David was not still angry about lingering aboard the Ophelia. “Now get out there and make me proud.”

  He saluted before moving past her. “Where the devil should this Romeo be? Came he not home tonight?”

  Jasmine’s heart soared as she watched him. Was it any wonder Vance had been such a disappointment to her? Even before she found out he was a thief and a bank robber, Jasmine had known the man couldn’t hold a candle to David. What Vance lacked had nothing to do with looks or occupation. Although she’d been blinded by both of those attributes when she first met him, she had eventually come to recognize the emptiness in Vance’s soul where his faith should be.

  She hadn’t suspected him like David had, but at least she’d known enough to keep Vance at arm’s length. Even when she was denying her connection to God, He had kept her heart safe.

  David returned to her side of the wings, but Jasmine had no time to compliment him on his scene. It was her turn to take center stage. In front of the audience, she delivered her lines with all the right gestures and inflections. Odd that she could perform even though being on stage no longer triggered the same heady surge of pleasure.

  The performance ended to thunderous applause, and Jasmine took her place on the stage. She went through the motions of curtsying and smiling, moving forward with the other principals for an additional curtsy before stepping back to let Tabitha and Rafe bask in their stardom. When the curtain calls ended, David was surrounded by the rest of the cast. He was the new actor in their midst and deserved their congratulations.

  Why did she feel so odd to see him being hailed? She wasn’t jealous of his success. She was happy for David. Happy to see him enjoying the moment. Jasmine pinned a smile on her lips and added her thanks to the rest of the cast and the Easleys before slipping back downstairs to help Clem with the cleanup.

  “I can’t believe it’s over.” Clem stood in the middle of an avalanche. “How did David do?”

  “He was extraordinary. If he didn’t already have another job, he could succeed in the theater.”

  “If anyone can change his mind, it’s you.”

  “I doubt David would agree with you. “Jasmine smiled as she recalled their offstage banter. She would treasure those silly moments no matter what their futures held. As for his words about his feelings, she had no doubt she would lie awake considering them once she sought her bed. “And I doubt I would want to even if he did.”

  Clem rolled her eyes. “We’ll see if you change your mind once we get to St. Louis.”

  “Don’t count on it. “Jasmine began to sort the mountain of costumes into two piles—one for washing, the other for mending.

  For a brief moment she had a vision of being married to David, traveling around the world with him at her side. But then it faded. She knew better. David had his priorities, priorities that had nothing to do with the theater. Besides, she was starting to lose the passion for that dream herself. Jasmine didn’t know if her feelings were a temporary aberration or a more permanent change, but she was leaning toward the latter.

  As each day passed, she found herself more content with the idea of returning to Les Fleurs. Wouldn’t Lily and Camellia be surprised to hear her admit that they’d been right all along? Although Jasmine couldn’t regret her time with the people on the Ophelia, her brief stint in the public eye had taught her that life was more than accolades and applause.

  What Renée Thornton had tried to tell her all those months ago—that she was supposed to being sowing the seeds of faith in this world—made sense to her now. Jasmine hoped to one day tell the sweet woman how much she appreciated her advice.

  Once all of the costumes were sorted, Clem put a hand on her back and stretched. “That’s all we can do for tonight, but we’ll have to get up early if we’re going to get all of these things ready for our arrival in St. Louis.”

  Jasmine was grateful that Clem had turned her attention from speculation about the future. Tomorrow would take care of itself. All they had to do was deal with today.

  “Where is my script?” Jasmine upturned the pile of clothes on her bed. “I wanted to read through that scene once more before dinner.”

  Clem’s hand halted midstroke through her loose hair as she twisted on the stool in front of their dressing table. “Stop making a mess. It’s obviously not here. Do you think it’s upstairs?”

  Jasmine considered the question. She had not had it when she went to visit Angelica in her room after rehearsal. “It must be. I wouldn’t worry about it, but I need to read through those Latin words once more. I kept stumbling over them this afternoon.”

  “Are you sure you don’t have another reason for going back upstairs? Perhaps you and David need more practice …”

  With a shake of her head, Jasmine exited the room. Ever since they started rehearsing The Taming of the Shrew back in Wittenberg, Clem had teased her about playing the part of sweet-natured Bianca opposite David’s portrayal of the love-stricken Lucentio. At least they weren’t Katherine and Petruchio. She was sure she’d never manage to be convincing in submitting to Petruchio’s unreasonable demands. Jasmine much preferred sweet-natured, discerning Bianca, the pretty younger sister who chose David—Lucentio—from her bevy of admirers.

  It was only a performance, after all. That’s what Clem didn’t understand. Rafe, or even Vance if he was not in prison, could be playing the part of Lucentio. The fact that she was looking into David’s velvety green gaze had nothing to do with the way she stumbled over the Latin words in her lines. It was a difficult scene. That was all. David was only playing a part when he told her of his love during the scene. The same was true for her.

  Jasmine knew she could overcome the problem by studying—by embracing the character of Bianca and forgetting everything but the performance. She had to. The Easleys would expect her to perform flawlessly at the St. Louis premiere tomorrow evening, and she was determined not to let them down.

  Stepping into the theater, Jasmine was surprised to find it shrouded in darkness. Had Mr. or Mrs. Easley decided they could save money by extinguishing all the candles now that rehearsals had ended? The vast room was like a cave. She would have a hard time finding her script now. She stood still wondering if she should return to her bedroom for a candle on her own or fumble around on the stage and risk running into something.

  �
��I thought I heard someone.” A male voice coming from the back of the theater made her heart attempt to escape from her chest.

  She recognized Tabitha’s answering voice. “You’re just nervous. Why do you think I snuffed all the candles? If anyone wandered in here, we’d hear them stumbling about. It’s an effective way to ensure privacy.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I am. Now tell me why you think we should get rid of Hiram Daniels.”

  The name sounded familiar to Jasmine, but she couldn’t quite place him. She left the question for now and concentrated on identifying the man’s voice.

  “Because he could still testify I had something to do with Charlie Petrie’s death.”

  Jasmine put a hand over her mouth to keep from making any noise as understanding dawned on her. Charlie Petrie was the man who had died in David’s arms. He was one of the bank robbers. And Hiram was the man who had mowed her down in Cairo.

  Tabitha’s laugh made the hair on her arms stand up. “Vance Hargrove will take the blame for that, not you and certainly not me. Hiram is too smart to say anything that could come back on us. He knows what happens to snitches.”

  “I hope you’re right.” The unseen man sounded less certain than Tabitha. “If a lawman knocks on my door, it won’t be long before he also knocks on yours.”

  Jasmine placed the man’s voice. Adam … no, Arnold Garth, one of the stock cast she had never paid much attention to. He and Tabitha were the bank robbers! They were the connection with the Ophelia.

  Her first inclination was to go find David and tell him what she’d heard. But she needed to get proof first. Undeniable, incontrovertible proof. But what proof was there? Tabitha and Arnold would deny their conversation, and it would be their word against hers. She needed to continue listening. Maybe they would say something she could use against them.

  “Don’t worry about Hiram. We need to focus on getting this job done here. Then you and I can put our plans into action. It’s about time to cut our losses here anyway.”

  “What are you talking about?”